


until the end

by venomedveins



Series: of magic & monsters [16]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Babies, Blood, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gore, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, Multi, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Vampires, Violence, implied past noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-04 00:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10262144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: The Roma/Alptra war has begun.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Damn. I don't even know where to begin. I have been so happy with the results of this fic and the love, support, and warmth all of you have extended towards me. Thank you so much for your support. It really has kept me going. 
> 
> I have been so inspired by the Agron/Nasir relationship and the wonderful connection that both Dan and Pana created on screen. Secretly, I kinda hope that they see this fic one day and realize the impact they made on one random writer. 
> 
> Again, thank you all, and don't worry. I will still be writing nagron probably forever.

Rising high above the Roma's encampment, the Umbra Mounts break sharply into jagged cliff walls. The formation of rock has broken away from each other, eroded by harsh wind and pelting snow. It has created a complicated staircase with gaps between and small plateaus. Now, the snow has been melted away and plumes of black smoke still rise towards the setting son. Vampire corpses piled high once rested here, left to burn away in the dawn. 

Below, the camp is in tethers. Cloth tents lay strewn in ribbons, blood staining the snow and ice. A winter storm had descended in the night, last a few days, and causing the remaining survivors to huddle against one another, not for warmth, but for shelter and respite from the freezing rain. 

In the darkness, Caesar crouches down and presses his red crusted hands to his face. The flickering of a small fire nearby shimmers over his armor, the shock of blond hair that is ruffled around his crown. There is a sickly grin stretched across his face, the corners of his mouth pulled tight as if commanded by strings. The contortion forces his fangs to stand out predominately, a snarl more animal than man. 

It has been two weeks since the battle, the passing of nights spent on mourning the dead and regrouping. The vampires expect their prince to lead them forward, staring wide eyed and curious anytime Caesar shows his face. 

"Highness." Bowing low, Ashur pauses in the center of the tent. He is careful not to look over to where Lucretia and Ilithyia are sitting nearby. "A messenger has arrived. Your father is coming and desires you to ready to come home."

"Does he?" 

Dragging his fingers over his cheeks, Caesar opens a small pouch nestled in the dirt, drawing out a thin bone, a few black marbles, and a cluster of lycoris radiata. He presses the flowers to his lips before setting them down among the black silt scattered on the ground. 

"Yes, my lord." Ashur glances at the women now, confused when neither respond, only watching with crimson gleaming eyes. 

Reaching over, Caesar plucks a black candle from a nearby stand, the flame flickering with the movement. It steadies itself, growing and edging higher and higher. Carefully, Caesar tilts it, a few drops of inky wax splattering on the soft petals below. At once, a plum of sickly jade rises up, flecked in shimmers of onyx, followed quickly by a rush of wind. 

What follows is silence, no whimpering from surrounding tents, no howling winds. The candles around them grow their flames long, frozen in time. The world holds its breath as Caesar tucks his toes and slowly stands up. He moves towards the tent door, drawing the fabric back in a smooth shift. 

Behind, the canyon is filled with shadows, black smoke trailing off into thin lines. They're not solid, a phantom not even denting the snow under them. They condense down into the gaunt outlines of men astride huge stallions, their eyes hallow except for an eerie green glow, oozing feet stamping at the ground. Atop where their heads should rest, there is nothing. From their ranks, one steps forward. His horse is bigger than the rest, cloak spread down the flank as a sheath of metals wrap from one shoulder to another. The Dullahan king plucks an onyx bag from his side, tossing it onto the ground before Caesar's feet. 

From Ashur's vantage point in the tent doorway, he is able to see the ivory of the skull that slides from the satchel, teeth resting just on the tip of Caesar's boot. The vampire turns then, eyes blazing - mouth still in that manic grin. 

"I have not yet begun."

\- - - 

Pale sunlight filters through the stained glass windows, reflecting off the smooth cut diamonds in the floor. The whole space seems to glow, a thousand shards of light perpetually spinning and changing shape. The empty banquet hall seems to expand It is quiet this early, servants and guards still lost in slumber - relaxing once more now that the royal family has been returned. There is more horror to come, the Alptraum people can feel it, but for now - they rejoice in the moment of serene peace. 

Inhaling, Lido gracefully spreads his arms, raising himself up onto the curved toe of his slipper. They're covered in jewels, an extravagant gift from his husband on their wedding anniversary, and cast their own reflection on the polished stone. He can feel where the soft ribbon is cutting into his ankle, keeping the shoes in place as he spines, coming down onto his heel and then back onto his toes. It is not truly the dance of his people – intricate steps on the curves of his toes, graceful and elegant. Lido has never been able to dance the way the twins and Nasir have, seductive and controlled waving on their bodies. Lido is stiff in poise, gentle in the way his arms curve above his head and spinning.

It's been a very long time since Lido has been able to dance this way - free of distraction or an audience. Emmerich doesn't approve of Lido losing himself this way. The way of the seers' is control, discipline. Even as the highest oracle, Emmerich cannot understand the wild, fluidity of Pythonissan magic. Lido cannot deny who he is though, even if he secrets it away inside of him, protecting it as if one day he will wake up and it will be gone.

Sighing, he brings his leg up behind him, eases his fingers to wrap around his ankle and draw it over his head, stretching high. The journey through the mountains was not an easy one, body sore and aching from the movements. His magic fills him up, cold waves of it starting from his feet and then up his legs, over his body until soft flurries linger around him like a cloud. Snowflakes hang in the air, spinning in slow circles and dancing through the soft light.

“It is very early. Do they not sleep in your mountain kingdom?” Agron’s voice cuts through the room, deep and echoing through the empty space. He’s casually leaning on the doorframe, massive arms crossed over his chest. His tunic is simple gray except for the small green embroidery of leaves and a forest along the hem – ornate enough to show his high status. It does nothing to cover the weariness in him though, dark circles cut like grooves under Agron’s eyes, mouth turned down even though it appears he’s trying to smirk. 

Lido drops from his position at the noise, snow cascading around him and evaporating on the smooth stones. Eyes wide, Lido carefully draws his robe around him, aware of his half nudity only in time to recognize who stands before him. He remembers his place only a breath afterwards, dropping into a low curtsey and bowing his head. 

“Your majesty. Apologies.” Pressing his palms together, Lido freezes in his place. “I only meant to-“

“Yes, I know about your peoples’ way of dancing. You dance to celebrate, to mourn, to destress. I suppose it is not so far removed from the Alptraum way of losing oneself in battle training.” Agron drags the side of his thumb thoughtfully along his bottom lip. “Testing the muscles in your body, pressing them harder, feeling yourself pushed beyond your limit.”

“There is a calmness to it. Still, I did not think the space was being used for anything.” Lido eases himself back to stand, eyes still trained at the scuffed toe of Agron’s boots. “I should have asked.”

“It is not being used for anything.” Agron answers bluntly, pushing off the door and moving into the room. “And there is no reason for you to bow to me. You saved my husband’s life. It is I that should bow to you.”

“He was my brother first,” Lido raises his head, carefully watching Agron’s approach. “I would do anything I could for him.”

“I hope that is true.” 

Agron stops a respectful distance away, watching Lido carefully. Though he is not half transformed this morning, there is still the hint of his power lingering at the center of his eyes. It’s an eerie sort of shine – too wild to be completely human. It’s fitting of this place – ornate and beautiful, but ancient in a way that light seems to not reach every corner. 

“Nasir has endured many hardships in his lifetime. Unfortunately, many of them happening since we have been joined.” Agron slowly meets Lido’s gaze, expression focused. “I do not think he could bear it if another one of his blood turned away from him. I will not let him suffer again.”

“Yes. I understand.” Lido sighs deeply, easing his arms around himself. “What Ashur did…It is a betrayal that no one should ever have to endure. I cannot stand the thought of it. Nasir has always been the best of us. Even as children I knew that. Nasir’s heart was meant to be filled only with happiness and yet the world seems to want to leave it ragged.”

“It has not all been horrible. We have had our joys.” Agron can’t help but think of the sleeping babe upstairs, of Nasir’s smiling face in the town on their anniversary, the many nights they have spent curled around one another by a roaring fire. “There has been love and peace among all the shit.”

“A life built on despair is no life at all.” Lido murmurs, shaking his hair back from his face. He thinks of Nasir curled up between the twins, his baby brother so small and weakened by poison, with so much potential inside of him for greatness. Lido doesn’t think Nasir even knows all of what he can do. 

“Mika and Jem are with him now. He was sleeping when I stepped out.” Lido glances towards the door to the left. It leads through the servant passage connecting to the healing rooms. “We can probably move him upstairs soon and have him on bed rest for a while. I know he does not like to be far from his rooms-”

“They’re being redone. We will move into the king’s rooms – my rooms – until they are presentable again for him.”

Agron turns slowly, fingers playing over the hilt of his large sword. He glances at Lido, his strong profile, the soft curve of his lip. The resemblance is there, the hint of Nasir’s own soft expression, but it makes Agron’s chest tighten. There was a moment only a few hours ago when he looked into his husband’s eyes and did not see the man he loves. Hope was a fickle thread quickly unraveling as Agron tried to keep grasp of it with thick, clumsy fingers. 

“I am not the best at saying what I am feeling.” Agron sighs deeply, scowling out of the frosty window to the falling snow outside before turning to look at Lido again. “But I cannot thank you enough for coming here and saving him. The idea of-“ Agron stops, licking his lips. “The idea of not having him-“

Lido reaches out, gently lays his hand on Agron’s shoulder, the other gently pressed to his own chest, “There was no other option, Agron.”

He cannot help being fascinated by the man in front of him. Agron is not what Lido was expecting, even from evading his dreams and seeing them together in blips and flashes of visions. He’s very serious, a deep crease to his brow, half hidden behind the thick cut of his crown. Agron’s mouth seems to naturally rest in a scowl. There are creases around his mouth though that hint to where laughter once was, eyes bright even though they watch Lido with careful scrutiny. Lido doesn’t need to move his eyes over Agron’s body to recognize the difference in their size. They stand only a few inches apart and yet Lido still feels small, smothered by the weight of Agron’s presence, of the muscles bulging from behind thick leather straps and cloth. 

“Do you love my brother?” Lido asks boldly, dark eyes staring up into Agron’s. He is not afraid, not completely. 

“Yes.” Carefully, Agron rubs the tip of his finger over the wolf charm nestled against his throat. It’s a small, open mouthed trinket with a small ruby for its eyes – delicate in a way. “Very much.”

Agron doesn’t need to say more. The truth is transparent all over him, from his slightly trembling hands to the way he meets Lido’s gaze, sure of himself. Lido has seen them together, snippets of visions where Nasir is pressed against Agron’s chest, lost in slumber, the rich timber of their voices joined in laughter, the soft caress of tenderness shared by two people in the intimate hours of early morning. Lido is happy for them, is overjoyed that Nasir’s marriage is founded on trust and love. 

“Are you married, Lido?” Agron asks, easing out from under Lido’s grasp and turning back to the window. 

“Oh. Um.” Lido thinks back to the rushed ceremony on the morning after he turned seventeen, of Emmerich’s cold hand around his wrist. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. Nothing as grand, I’m sure, as what you do here, but yes, I have someone.”

“And do you love him?” Agron asks, waits for an answer that Lido struggles over. He won’t lie, but what is the truth? Lido can’t even admit it to himself. 

“I am taken care of.” Lido cringes at how simple the words sound, how fake. “Emmerich is kind to me, mild in his tempers and warm in his embraces. I never want for anything. I never fear for my life. He is wise and gentle in his own way, I suppose.”

“But it is not love.” Agron slowly raises an eyebrow at the other man. His chest presses large and full under his arms, looking powerful even relaxed. “Were you taken like your other brothers or did you run like Ashur?”

“Emmerich and the Council of Seers came to retrieve me when they saw a vision of my powers.” Lido replies, dropping his gaze to where his wedding ring wraps around his finger, the sapphire cut in the same of a large tear drop. “Emmerich convinced my father I would be safer in Maerif, be taught to control my powers, learn from the very best. I am sure he paid a hefty coin to Kallistos though in the end.”

Agron says nothing, watching as Lido drags his robe up over his shoulders again, hiding his bare skin from view. Standing in the empty banquet hall like this, it seems they are both so very small in comparison to the rest of the world, and yet weight rests upon them – crushing until even breathing feels like torture. 

“It seems your father made a living off of the selling and buying of his sons.” Agron snarls, lip curling over his teeth. “I am surprised my own didn’t strike up more of a friendship with him.”

“You cannot change what happened in Nasir’s or my life or any of my brother’s, Agron.” Lido turns to him, shaking his head again. “It has made us who we are, just as what happened with Caesar and you has made you who you are. Struggles and pain are still tools carving us into the works of art we are today.”

“Perhaps I should have let Caesar have me then.” Agron spits bitterly, running a hand through his hair. “I could have spared all of us this horror and grief. Your family would have never had to cross paths with mine.”

“You know that is not true.” Lido reaches out, gentle takes Agron’s hand back into his own cold one. “Agron, you know it is not. Nasir and you have been crafted for one another even before you were born. The gods wanted it and so it was.”

“Fuck the gods!” Agron yanks away from Lido, eyes blazing. “Was it the will of the gods to torture Nasir his entire life? To allow him to be used and in agony over and over? He was a child and was used as a prop for someone else’s pleasure and enjoyment. Was it the will of the gods to give us to each other only to have us ripped apart at every turn?”

“Nasir’s fate is entwined with yours just as much as yours is with his.” Lido does not reach for him again, instead watches as Agron paces away. “There will be peace one day, Agron. There will. But you know that even if you had been sworn to Caesar, Nasir and you would still have crossed paths.”

“You don’t know that.” Agron rubs at his eyes, the signs of exhaustion curving his spine forward. 

“In every universe, in every timeline, it will always be the two of you together.” Lido clasps his hands before him, unable to offer any comfort than words. “You were made to love one another, Agron.”

Agron turns, mouth open with a response sharp and pained slathered across his face, when he’s cut off by the door soft clicking open. A servant enters, his eyes trained to the floor as he bows deeply, the circlet of gold leaves in his hair glistening in the early light, a match to the sash around his waist. 

“Apologies, Highness, but King Tankemenin is waiting for you in the council room along with three other foreign diplomats. They seemed anxious to discuss the proceedings after the vampire attack.”

“Of course,” Agron nods once, straightening himself and easing his hands down the front of his tunic. “Tell them I will join them shortly.”

It is as if a switch has been thrown, the desperate, angst ridden man slowly coiling and tighter, head rising even under the incredible weight that has been thrust upon him.

Inhaling deeply, Lido approaches him once more, not touching but drawing close enough his words are soft. He can see the gears clicking back into place, Agron’s body pulled taught as the mantle of king descends back over the title of man.

“All wounds heal, Agron. Time continues. And nothing, not even sorrow and pain last forever.”

Lido bows slowly, a deep curtsey and bend of his knee, before he leaves the room, only a chill in the air lingering. 

\- - -

Spartacus is waiting for Agron at the end of the hall, expression grim and dressed in full court attire. It consists of an ornate chest piece engraved with a snarling wolf, the hand of the king sigil pinned above his heart, and a long red cloak clasped at each shoulder. It helps hide the twin hilts of his sword - one on either hip. Along the wall, guards stand stony faced and fully equipped, bowing their head at the clip of Agron's boots on the stones.

"Majesty," Spartacus hands over Agron's own sword, the straps of the belt dangling. This is not usual proceedings, thus the ban on weapons in the council room has been lifted. There are more Alptraum guards around now too, Crixus having tightened his hold until every soldier trembles as he passes.

"Who all is here?" Agron grumbles, latching the blade to his side. The triple balled hilt rests against his hip, feeling secured even with the hidden armor under Agron’s ornate tunic.

"Tankemenin and Helio," Spartacus lists, "Some delegates from Loinnir. A few other from the distance lands. The ones from Muka are demanding to see Nasir before they do anything."

"Why?" Agron snaps, glowering through his eyelashes. The growl in his voice reverberates through him, echoing down in the long hall. 

"They wanted to pay respects. Apparently," Spartacus pauses, drawing in a deep breath, "they knew Fatin and sent Apep to Nasir for protection."

"What?" Agron freezes in straightening his belt. “What shit is this?”

"The man was vague at best. Gerulf was in contact with a temple there to hire an assassin." Spartacus doesn't know of a softer way to tell this. "They gave Apep to Nasir instead."

"Assassin?" Realization slowly dawns on Agron, eyes widening. It feels as if things are snapping together, the missing fragments of Gerulf’s plot suddenly coming into clear focus. “He intended to have Nasir poisoned? Why?”

“Not Nasir.” Spartacus braces himself for the anger, for the rage that he is sure to come. “From my understanding, the order for poison was for Duro.”

“To what purpose?” Agron’s voice raises, billows down the hall. At the end, a group of servants startle, one dropping the pitcher of water she was carrying. She instantly drops down to the floor, bowing as she picks up the pieces, the others around her helping. 

“This is not the place or the time.” Spartacus’ fingers flex on Agron’s shoulder, “We will discuss when we are safe and away from those whom may be against us.” He pointedly looks down the hall where the servants are now gone, only a lone figure lingering just out of eyesight behind a large pillar.

Agron bares his teeth, shoulders flexing tight as he tries to refrain from lashing out. He burns to find a way to go back in time, to see what Gerulf was attempting to do from the very first night, from the moment he had placed Agron’s hand in Nasir’s, since before when Agron had been given to Caesar. It seems as even from his first breath, Agron has been destined to be the cause of horror. After all that has happened, Agron does not think he can take anymore. 

“Have you,” Spartacus murmurs, leaning in close, “gone and seen him?”

Agron silently shakes his head, ducking his head to fiddle with the thick gold cuff around his wrist. “Pietros came to check on Malik and told me he was okay, weak but resting.”

“Agron-“ Spartacus begins, only to be cut off as the king makes a pained noise. 

“’He is alright. It will take time but Nasir is expected to make a full recovery. That is all that matters. It’s all I ever wanted for him. He’s with his brothers and his family with their magic and-” Agron waves a hand. “There is no space in that room for me.” 

“Space? Agron, you are his husband, his mate! You must know that Nasir loves you above everything else.” Spartacus grips the back of his friend’s neck, forces Agron to look up at him. “You know this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is.” Agron tries to pull away but Spartacus won’t release him. “I led Caesar here. I let him use Nasir as bait. I should have known the moment Ashur showed up, taunted me with knowing about what has happened.”

“You are not to blame for other’s actions!” Spartacus reiterates. “You did not bite Nasir, did not feed him poison. Agron, you nearly killed Tove because he tried to stand in your way of getting to Nasir. You would have done anything to get him back, sacrificed anything. Those are no the traits of a monster.”

“I’m not a good man.” Agron glances up at Spartacus, brow down and eyes watery. “I told him that from the very beginning. I warned him. I was made to be a killer, crafted from the beginning. How many times has he had to suffer because of me?”

“You are his. Nasir chose you, his magic chose you. Your son is the creation of that love.” Spartacus pulls Agron down until he stoops, pressing their foreheads together. “You are more than what your father wanted for you. Please, brother, believe me when I say this. You are my best friend. I know you better than you think. You are not this demon that you paint yourself as.”

“Spartacus.” Agron chokes out, surprised and relenting as Spartacus pulls him tightly into a hug. 

“We will do this the way we always have – together. Every person in this family is on your side.” Spartacus squeezes Agron roughly. “Have faith.”

“Agron?” Opening the council room door, Duro leans his head out. He’s frowning, a wrinkle settling deep between his brows and wine on his breath. “I’m sorry but-“

Agron rolls his eyes as there is a loud shout from the council room, the argument already starting. It seems there is no time now for this, the weakness that clings to Agron’s spine. He needs to be strong, to lead, but not alone as Spartacus squeezes his shoulder again. 

“Come on.” 

Inhaling sharply, Agron sighs as he moves towards the door, replacing all the anguish inside of him with something else – that hot blistering rage that seems to always find a way to spur him forward.

The royal council room has been washed of all blood, the vampires bodies having been removed with the rest during the time Agron was retrieving Nasir. It does not help the sense of foreboding though as red light filters in from the oculus above, reflecting across the faces and armor of the ones gathered there. It's a cornucopia of creatures - men and women - each from their own land. The minotaur from Taurant - Tankemenin and Helio - sit to the left of Agron's vacant chair, looking huge and foreboding with the Loriner elves beside them - all of them slender and pale skinned. Drudes from Koldo linger towards the end of the table, their violet skin laced with green and yellow veins looking sickly and decaying. Three Alps from the center of Alptraum's deep forests hover in the dark shadow between pillars, their illuminated yellow eyes giving any indication that they are present as the rest of their bodies are cloaked in black. Rübezahl take up the end, three of them with jovial beards and large fists clasped around tankards of wine. Along the right side of the table, the Alptraum's high council sits - a vacant chair for Spartacus, Duro, Crixus, Naevia, and now Tove and Saxa in place of their father. Auctus and Barca linger at the door as guards, slipping the lock down into place as Agron moves to his seat. 

"I am not going to waste your time with flowery words or whispers of comfort in this trying time.” Agron does not sit, but instead presses his fists down onto the table and leans forward. 

“We are at war.”

Murmurs hiss through the room, growing as the members around the council turn worried expressions and scowls to one another. Agron cannot blame them. To them, this is not their battle. The vampires came for the Alptraum, and the only thing binding the others here is years of treaties and alliances. It's only because of Malik's birthing games that they were here anyways.

"As much as we respect the long years we have been your father's and now your ally, Wolf King, we cannot condone this." One of the Loriner elves leans forward, pale mouth drawn tight. "Getting into a war with the vampires is a risk not all of us are willing to take."

“We cannot be rash.” Modo, a Rubezahl with a dark beard and yellow eyes leans forward. “Perhaps a meeting should take place. A gathering-“ He pauses when a growl breaks through the room. “Away from this castle, of course.”

“There is no making peace now.” Tankemenin rumbles, his shoulder brushing his son’s. “You cannot be so fucking blind as to assume that Caesar wants to talk in soft conversation and make deals. He came to this land for one thing and one thing only – to take his prize.”

“From the reports, it appears as if he was only interested in kidnapping the royal family.” The elf, Piaras, raises a slow eyebrow, his next words cutting. “A plot of failed matchmaking is hardly a concern of ours.”

"Caesar came for me, yes, I know." Agron sees no point in hiding behind false pretenses, having to breath heavily through his nose to center himself. "But it will not be long before he extends his sights and his hungers elsewhere. If he gains control over Alptra, he will come for you next."

“You can’t know that.” A drude with purple lips shakes her head, black stringy hair flying. “There are laws. Alliances forged long before you were even born.”

“Caesar does not care about laws or restrictions, you dumb shit.” Duro speaks up, slamming his hand down onto the table. “He marched through our sacred land and kidnapped our consort to use as bait for his plot. There is nothing Caesar isn’t willing to get what he wants – and you are just a rock in the road for him.”

“Prince Duro is right.” Tankemenin speaks up, easing his wine cup from hand to hand. “Caesar does not see this as a one battle war. He will keep taking and taking until he has accomplished what he wants.”

“And what of King Nasir?” One of the Muka priests raises his gray head, mouth thin and drawn in. “Does he have anything to add to this conversation? What did Caesar tell him?”

“Nasir is still recovering from the torture Caesar inflicted upon him.” Naevia interjects, glancing up at Agron. “I do not think he will be fit to make a public appearance until he is fully healed.”

“That is not what I asked-“ The old man begins to speak when Agron cuts him off, waving a quick hand. 

“I do not give a shit what you asked.” Agron suddenly barks, slamming a hand down upon the table. He has lost his patience with this fickle chatter. “He does not know anything that I haven’t already told you. We are at war and either you stand beside us or you are against us. That is the world’s divide now.”

Silence falls over the room, the flickering of a few stray candles forcing the shadows on the wall to dance. Agron doesn't bother looking at each of the group, instead, he focuses on Spartacus. There is a golden ring around his pupils, mouth curled into a thin line - determined and focused. This was Spartacus' idea - calling everyone together - and Agron knows that these are his words as well. Agron cannot be caught up in those thoughts now though. His family rests just upstairs, still threatened by a massive dark force waiting to come and take them all. The time to act is now. 

"I stand with you." Wood scratches across the floor as Tankemenin and then Helio stand, thumping their first to their shoulder in quick salute. “Taurant stands by our word.”

Quickly, the right side of the table - all the Alptraum - follow suite. It begins a chain reaction, each group standing and repeating their own claim of alliance. The Loriner elves are near the last to stand, looking sour about the whole thing as they lightly tap their fists to their shoulders. When the Muka stand, they glare at Agron, unrelenting in their favoritism for Nasir and lack of interest in his mate. Finally, the room stands in allegiance and Agron bows his head, letting the totality of it all wash over him. 

Together, they may have a chance.

\- - - 

Nasir gratefully accepts the cup of tea from Pietros' outstretched hand, curling the cup close to his face to inhale the aroma. It's a spice blend - hints of cinnamon and cardamom mixed with ginger. The scent lingers against the roof of Nasir's mouth and it makes him ache for cool nights on the road and the soft burning of magic. It has been so long since he's felt the jolt of a wagon, watched crystals spin above him as he sleeps, been lulled to sleep by Kallistos storytelling and Fatin's soft singing. 

"You are lost again in thought, little brother." Mika gently tucks a stand of hair behind Nasir's ear. "Where have you gone?"

"Back in time, I'm afraid." Nasir smiles at his brothers, comforted by the warmth of their presence around him. Kalmar and Lido sit together at the foot of the bed while Mika and Jem bracket him, all of them pressed close. "I am glad to find myself here with you though. It has been too long."

"You have done well for yourself.” Mika licks his fingers, reaching out to take another raspberry tart from the platter. “Highest royalty. A kingdom at your beck and call. A husband with a huge cock to ravage you every night.”

“Mika!” Nasir gasps, cheeks reddening. “Stop.”

“What? You cannot expect me to believe he isn’t.” Mika shrugs carelessly. “I remember him in – what do you call that garment?”

“A subligaria.” Pietros answers, dodging Nasir’s tossed grape. “It’s only one strip of fabric, did you know? Just tied together.”

“How barbaric.” Lido wrinkles his nose. “It’s so-“

“Rugged? Masculine? Tantalizing?” The twins ask together, their identical grins spreading wide. 

“I was going to say unsanitary,” Kalmar interjects, smirking when Pietros and Lido stifle giggles into each other’s shoulders. 

“We’ll find you both a nice Alptraum man to have your wicked way with later,” Nasir pats them both on the knee. “For now, leave my husband out of it.”

“It’s just a simple question. How big is his cock? He obviously has kept you satisfied. Pietros tells us that sometimes you can barely walk afterwards.” Mika shares a conspiratory grin with his brothers. “Is that true?”

“I’m not talking about this.” Nasir returns to fiddling with the small tassels along the edge of his robe. He knows that the reddening of his face gives it away.

“Just give us a hint. It’s not like we are asking for a graphically painted portrait of it! This big?” Jem spreads his hands a few inches apart, slowly widening them. “This big?”

“Or this big?” Mika makes a circle with his fingers and then widens it until he has to use both hands.

“Stop!” Nasir cannot help giggling, hiding behind his hands. “This is indecent. He’s not some random guy on the side of the road. Agron is my husband.”

“From what I glimpsed on their wedding night, I would say it’s more log than twig,” Pietros interjects, again dodging Nasir’s quick slapping hands again. He lets out a peal of laughter at Nasir’s horrified expression, flopping back on his pillow as he clasps his stomach. 

“Hush!”

“Well, I don’t care how big his dick is.” Kalmar speaks up from the foot of the bed, wiping his fingers on a small napkin. “I just want to know how full the treasury is.”

“Look at this place,” Mika picks up a golden comb resting on a table near the bed. “As if they hurt for anything.”

Nasir feels a weird twinge of guilt at his brother’s awestruck face. He remembers vividly what it was like on the road, all those months begging for scraps, selling everything and everyone just to feed themselves through the harsh winters. There was never enough cloth, no blankets for warmth, sometimes not even enough wax to light a candle. Now, Nasir lies on silk sheets and fur blankets, licking honey from his fingers, weighed down by a crown with enough gold in it to feed the Pythonissan troupe for at least four months. 

“Stop.” Lido reaches over to cup Nasir’s cheek. “We do not blame you for your fortune. You have suffered and you deserve the joys you have now.”

“They are not just mine. Agron’s family is very ancient.” Nasir glances around the white washed walls of the infirmary, the stones on the floor still a brilliant shade of pearl. “This is his inheritance.”

“And yours now.” Lido smiles, kissing Nasir’s forehead. “You are his consort, his queen.”

“It’s not just mine though there is much to be given-“ Nasir tries to explain, the words lost as there is a soft knock at the door, Bagoas slowly easing himself into the jam of it. 

“Deepest apologies, majesty.” He bows as much as he can, dark hair brushing the floor. “King Agron is here to see you, if you will allow.”

“Of course!” Nasir sits up straighter, easing his fingers down across his lap to smooth the blanket. He is still weak, a tremble sliding through him anytime he over exerts himself, but he will not turn Agron away.,

Agron has to stoop to enter through the low door, crown nearly grazing the rough wood. He's dressed in full armor, the straps of his chest piece pulled tighter over his skin, the clasps and emblems of a snarling wolf. Fur cloak spread behind him, Agron seems to tower in his status – apparently royal and of high blood. Even in this safe space, he still wears his sword buckled at his side, the hilt pressing across his hip. 

In his arms though, a small bundle wiggles against his chest, curled towards him. Wrapped in a golden and cream colored blanket, a tuft of dark hair sticks out over the embroidered edge. The sound of tiny sniffling can also be heard as the bundle nuzzles at Agron’s shoulder. 

"Apologies. He won't be calmed.” Agron shifts Malik, brushing his fingers through his son’s hair. “He can smell you all over me.”

“Oh love. No. Come here.” 

Nasir beckons with his hands, palms up and outstretched. Agron shifts Malik around in his arms, lets the baby's back rest against his chest as they both look at the full bed. He wants to do this slowly, to reintroduce them and watch Nasir – the weight of this hesitancy in Agron crushing against him. He will never forget that desperate look in Nasir’s eyes – that evil twisting of poison. The worry is all useless though. Malik instantly spots his father, letting out a shrill and heartbreaking cry. He begins to strain against Agron's grasp, tiny arms waving as he begins to sob. 

Jem scurries off the bed as Agron approaches, leaves room for the king to kneel on the furs and hand over the squirming babe. Malik instantly latches onto Nasir, burying his small face in Nasir's neck and wrapping his tiny fists in Nasir's soft hair. He alternates between whimpering high and needy and soft mews as he tries to drink in all of Nasir’s scent. Agron means to slip back, letting them have a moment, when Nasir's hand gently catches his. 

"Please." Dark eyes meet green as Nasir leans up earnestly. "Stay."

"Nasir, maybe-" Mika begins, frowning deeply as he watches his little brother. 

"I want him to stay." Nasir doesn't take his eyes off of Agron, fingers flexing as a small ripple of gold slides from his wrist to Agron's. "He belongs here. With me. And with our son."

The gasp is audible, the room falling into still silence as Malik calms enough to start mouthing at Nasir's chest. He is relentless with his hold on his father though, long body curled along Nasir’s, rubbing his tear streaked face across the soft fabric of Nasir’s tunic. Nasir ignores his brothers' confusion, their hesitating questions. Instead, he gently caresses Malik's curls, pulling the blanket down beside him to make room for Agron.

Agron eases his sword belt off, leaning the hilt of it against the headboard as he moves to rest back against the pillows. He can feel eyes on him, calculating and sharp as Nasir settles back into the curve of his arm, cradling Malik against him. Mika and Jem are pressed together, nearly one being as they stand on the other side of the bed while Lido and Kalmar stare from the foot. Only Pietros, curled up on Nasir's other side seems unperturbed by the change in events.

“A son?” The twins echo together, peering over Pietros’ bare shoulder at Malik, watching closely as he continues to nuzzle against Nasir. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you are a father?” Lido's hands are clasped in his lap, a sheen of frost over his knuckles. He seems to barely be containing himself.

“He is yours, right?” Kalmar is leaning forward too, eyes narrowed as he tries to see the babe’s face. “Both of yours?” He does not trust this _Agron_. What can be said of a man who is mostly wolf? Who lets vampires kidnap his husband and poison him?

Cupping Malik’s head, Agron turns the baby just enough that the other man can catch a glimpse of him – tan skin, wild dark curls, and piercing green eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Malik glances from his fathers to the other men, wrinkling his nose as he tries to growl. Agron admonishes him with a soft sound, the vibration of it echoing in Nasir’s shoulder. It seems their son has inherited Agron’s lack of enthusiasm for strangers as well.

“His name is Malik.” Agron murmurs, unable to hide his proud grin when Malik coos up at him, gumming a grin. “And he is of both of us.”

"Can I-" Leaning his head back against Agron's shoulder, Nasir looks up at him, bottom lip trembling. "Do you think he'll let me-"

"Here." 

Reaching across him, Agron gently unties the front of Nasir's tunic, easing the fabric open and then to the side. Though still recovering, Nasir is slowly returning to his natural color, skin soft and bronze. Agron caresses his fingers over Nasir’s collarbones in comfort, drawing his hair back. Turning, Malik instantly attaches to his chest, whimpering in distress until Nasir helps guide him to what he wants. He drinks heavily, long eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks as Malik settles into rhythmic pulls. 

"You are his baba." Agron sooths, pressing a soft kiss to Nasir's hair. "He knows you as no one else."

“And you?” Nasir whispers, pained laced through the words as he avoids looking up at Agron. It’s no use though as he gently cups Nasir’s chin, ignoring the watchful eyes of the others in the room as Agron turns Nasir to look at him. 

“I know you.” Agron murmurs in Alptraum, thumb tracing along Nasir’s cheek. “And I am not leaving your side.”

Nasir leans his forehead against Agron’s jaw, collapsing against him. The weight that has grown and festered in his spine slowly disappearing as Agron strokes his hair. He had imagined this numerous times, curled on his stomach in this huge bed, sweating and tearing at his hair. The poison had leaked out with the help of the brothers’ magic, but the aftermath was tremors and sweats. Nasir had hallucinated at one point, screaming until the brothers had cocoon around him. 

“Sator tried to call me to the heavens.” Nasir whispers, though it is quiet enough in the room the sound of it is easily heard by everyone. “I awoke and stood in the Grand Hall. A million candles as if stars hung above me, the floor alabaster. The fountain sprang only lights that floated in the air. And there was a chair for me, vacant and golden. Sator told me my work was done. That I had blessed the world with the champion it needed and I could rest now.” 

Agron keeps silent, still stroking his fingers along Nasir’s temple and down against his cheek. He cannot bear the thought of what would have happened had Nasir’s brothers not shown up, had their magic not been strong enough and Nasir had slipped away. It is something that will haunt him forever.

“But then, I heard your voice.” Nasir pulls back to stare teary eyed up at Agron. “I heard you calling my name, the sound of your laughter, and I felt your hand in mine. And do you wish to know what I told him?”

“What, my love?” Agron brushes a stray tear off Nasir’s cheek with the side of his thumb. 

“I told him to send me back.” Nasir’s voice cracks, shaking his head. “I could not stay there. Not yet. I made a promise to you, that I would not go where you could not. And we still have a lifetime together.”

“A very long lifetime.” Agron leans in, kisses Nasir’s forehead and then the top of Malik’s. “One which we will have.”

Malik pulls away to rub a fist against his mouth, expression content and sleepy, one hand still fisted in Nasir’s long hair. As he ages, Malik has started to gain control over his facial expressions and noises. He now has calls for all of his immediate family, even a high-pitched warble when Duro holds him and a soft mew when Naevia or Mira are nearby. He’s also taken to trembling his bottom lip anytime Agron moves out of view and he isn’t expecting it. It’s the mirror image of Nasir’s own expression, paired with large eyes and a soft whimper.

“A son.” Jem murmurs and from his hand, a cluster of violet sparks appear, floating over to circle around Malik’s head. “Our Nasir has a son.”

“He is magnificent.” Mika has moved back onto the bed, reaching over to draw his twin in as well, perching beside Pietros to watch as Nasir eases Malik onto his other side. 

“Amazing.” Lido echoes as Kalmar slowly brushes a finger down Malik’s bare arm. They are overwhelmed by it all. The last time the two older brothers had seen Nasir, he was barely old enough to dance on his own – now he’s married and has a child. 

“Does he have magic?” Kalmar doesn’t try and move the blankets, but his eyes drift down to Malik’s back. 

Agron and Nasir share a look, twin expressions furrowing their brows. It is something they knew was going to come up eventually, the questions of what sort of power Malik possess. Other than the stray repeated growl and flashing of smooth gums, he doesn't seem to have any powers. Neither Agron nor Nasir are worried. It is still something that others seem obsessed with, a huge topic of gossip in the court. 

"Fuck, Kalmar," Pietros speaks up, surprisingly saving the couple from having to come up with an answer. "Malik is only four months. Give the baby some time to figure himself out."

"I only wanted to know." Kalmar sniffs, glaring down his nose as his brother. “Considering who birthed him and why everyone is going to war over him.” He glances over at Nasir and Agron, flinching when Agron’s lip curls slightly, Nasir’s hand on his wrist a warning. 

"Come on. I think that is enough." Pietros extracts himself from the blankets with a swift kiss to the top of both Agron's and Nasir's head, tapping Malik affectionately on the nose. “We’ll leave you both alone for a little while. I’m sure the rest of you are _dying_ to go explore.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Lido gently lays his hand on the curve of Nasir’s knee. “No more pain? I can stay-”

“He is safe with me.” Agron answers, squeezing Nasir against him. Nasir nods in agreement, burrowing back against his husband and using his grasp on Malik’s hand to wave goodbye. 

They wait until the medic ward’s door finally clicks shut, the last slip of metallic fabric disappearing from sigh before the couple collapse back, relaxing into the pillows. The bed isn’t nearly as comfortable as Nasir’s in the consort suite, but it is wide and gives Agron enough room to swing his legs up, kicking his boots off until they clunk loudly to the floor. 

“Pietros said that Duro had a council meeting this morning. Did it go well?” Nasir asks, resting Malik down across their laps, propped up on Agron’s bent knee. 

Sighing, Agron rolls his eyes, slowly rolling his head bac k against the furs. “We are surrounded by dumb shits.”

Nasir can’t help the rueful smile that spreads across his face, gently placing his hands over Malik’s ears as a warning. He has missed this part of Agron though, the lazy, complaining king who wraps himself around Nasir and spends the afternoon complaining with him about everyone else. When they are like this, only the three of them matter. 

“You’ll figure something out.” Nasir kisses Agron’s forehead, caressing his hair. “You and Spartacus always come up with something that saves the day.”

Agron makes a noncommittal noise, lacing their fingers together. He doesn’t want to think of the council meeting or the letters sent to their allies. He doesn’t even want to think about the blood still staining some of the streets in Galena’s city, the horror still lurking there. Instead, Agron feels like being selfish, taking a moment – half a day – to enjoy the company of his family. 

“Melitta says you are on bed rest for a few days.” Agron murmurs, switching the topic. “But she has allowed moving you to the king’s suite if you so desire. We’ve put the cradle in there already, and a few other things recovered from your wing.”

“Will you sleep there as well?” Nasir asks, allowing Malik to play with the fringe along the edge of the blanket. 

“If you wish it.” Agron nods, grinning wide enough the dimples on his cheeks dent the skin. 

“I do.” Nasir caresses a finger along them. “I do wish it.”

“Then consider it done.” Agron leans up, kissing Nasir tenderly. He doesn’t push nor deepen it, instead lets it linger sweet and gentle against Nasir’s lips. 

“Agron.” Pulling back, Nasir tries to regain his composure, rubbing his teeth over his bottom lip. It is nearly to no avail though, his head still dazed as Agron leans in to kiss him again. “Wait, I have to tell you something.”

“Later. It can wait.” 

Agron’s fingers weave their way through Nasir’s hair, tilting his head to lean in and tenderly kiss him again. He does not think he will ever stop, now that Nasir is safe and in his arms again – a thought nearly torn apart due to Caesar. Agron will not let any moment go by taken for granted. Never again. Now, he only wishes to cradle his husband and his son, and bask in this long-earned moment of solace. 

\- - - 

“Down that hall and through the double set of doors will lead you to the southern gardens. There is an orchard of trees off to the left that bear these golden apples even in the middle of a snow storm." 

Pietros waves a hand towards the left, pointing towards an empty corridor. The walls are heavy with a long tapestry, depicting a dense wood with embroidered animals throughout. On either side of the group, guards stand rigid and in full armor, bowing their heads in respect when they spot Pietros. 

“How do you not get lost here?” Mika has his head craned back, the light reflecting off his plethora of necklaces. He’s entranced by the paintings on the ceiling, the night sky with wolves howling along the edges. 

“It is a maze. And every hallway looks different!” Jem agrees. He has his hand entwined with Mika’s, both spinning in a slow circle. 

“It’s not that impressive. The castle in Cypress has carvings and engraving surpassing this place. My prince, Darach, has a talent for it.” Kalmar reaches out, traces the wooden teeth of a nearby cherub and down onto it soft wings. “I am impressed by the number of wolves though.” 

“Alptraum love their royalty.” Pietros grins, affectionately bumping into Lido. “Don’t we all though?”

“Who is this Prince Darach that you keep speaking of?” Lido prompts, raising a slow eyebrow. “You sound very fond. A lover perhaps?"

Kalmar, like his fairy folk, has always kept secrets close to him, using them for leverage or advancement when necessary. He is not cruel by nature, but is the snake in the sand, waiting and watching for the time to strike. Kallistos use to say that Kalmar had more patience than death itself. 

“He barely spoke of anything else on the road.” Mika adds to the barb, turning from marveling a large bronze statue of a goddess ensnared by thick ropes. “ _Oh Prince Darach does this. Oh Prince Darach does that._

"No!" Kalmar turns quickly, narrowing his eyes at his siblings. A small vine weaves its way across his forehead, clinging to his hairline to protect his skin from the sharp, needle like thorns. "I am his bodyguard and companion. My job is to protect him."

"The blush upon your cheek speaks of different things." 

Pietros reaches out, dodging Kalmar's hand to pinch his cheek. It’s childish and brash, but it gets the effect intended as Kalmar’s lip curls, hissing sharply. They scuffle, Kalmar attempting to pull Pietros' hair as the younger man darts away, crying out. If the guards notice, they do not move from their position, having lived within the castle long enough to tell the difference in a fight and in play. Thankfully, Kalmar is saved from their taunting at the sound of a door opening at the end of the hall and a loud voice echoing out. 

"Look cousin, the gods must fucking favor me today.” A man steps out, leather pants slung low on his hips, pale skin painted with red zigzags of his warrior status. He’s wearing a thin circlet, the gold shimmering with rubies. He would look very princely if it weren’t for the way his ears stick out obtusely. “What have I done to deserve such gifts from the gods? Not just crafted one beauty to warm my bed, but two? Tell me, what are your-" 

Tove abruptly stops, hand hovering awkwardly in the air as if he meant to touch Mika's bare shoulder. It seems the whole hall is frozen, the air sucked from the space. The twins turn together, identical brows raised as they stare the man down. He appears nearly similar to the other Alptraum men they’ve encountered – tall and broad, talking too much before their minds can catch on. 

“If you are fond of that hand,” Jem begins, eyes not moving from Tove’s face. 

“I suggest you don’t allow it to touch me.” Mika finishes with a slow hiss. 

Tove's gaze moves from the men before him to Kalmar just behind, then were Lido and Pietros stand close together. The realization is obvious on his face, the color draining from it as he glances back down. The twins are grinning now, a sliver of turquoise sliding from one of their collarbones to another. 

"You're uh-" Tove wags his fingers between the twins, pointing behind. 

"We're what?" Kalmar moves forward, eyes flashing a strange green hue. 

"I didn't realize - Nasir will eviscerate me-" 

Tove does not get a chance to speak, racking his brain for a way to ease out of this, as the door he just entered through is flung open, Duro stepping through followed closely by Auctus and Barca. They seem distracted, fidgeting with shoulders tense as they whisper to one another. Duro is so lost in hissing something at Auctus he nearly runs directly into the man before him. 

"Tove, what the fuck?” Duro snaps, stumbling half a step before he whips his head to the right, grinning. “Pietros!" 

They dart towards one another, colliding in a tangle of limbs as Duro lifts the slighter man off the ground. Auctus and Barca follow over, moving languid and smoothly across the shimmering floor, hands clasped. They linger close, watching the pair kiss, one of Duro's hands cupping the back of Pietros' head. His fingers lost in his curls, Duro uses his grasp to guide Pietros' lips from his own to Auctus' and then Barca. The other men press a gentle kiss to Duro's hair as well. 

"We were so fucking worried." Lowering him, Duro keeps Pietros' close, hands casually resting on the curve of his ass. "You disappeared into that room with Nasir and we didn't know what happened. There was a lot of screaming."

"I'm okay." Pietros pecks Duro's frown, deepening the kiss again when Duro keeps furrowing. "Really, I am. Nasir is healing too. Agron and Malik are with him. Melitta promised to move them upstairs later today."

"I am glad to hear it." Duro smiles again, nudging his nose against Pietros. They don't dissolve into kissing again, instead interrupted by Lido's loud clearing of his throat. 

"Pietros?" He has his arms crossed over his chest, mouth curled in distaste, Kalmar standing nearby and mirroring him. The confusion draws their expression in, making them appear eerily similar. 

"Oh!" Easing out from Duro's grasp, Pietros instead wraps his arm around Barca's waist, gesturing to the group. "These are Nasir's and my brothers. Lido, Kalmar, and then the twins - Mika and Jem."

"Greetings. Welcome to Alptra." Duro taps his hand to his shoulder, the others following suite. 

"That is Tove, cousin to the king." Pietros points to the man whose ears are still burning. "And this is Prince Duro, Agron's brother, and Lord Auctus and Lord Barca - my fiancés."

"Your-?" Mika sputters, Jem's jaw dropping in delight. 

"Fiancés? As all three?"

"You tramp! I am so fucking proud!" Mika croons, a burst of blue light shimmering over him as he reaches out and hugs Jem. "Our little Pietros. All grown up and filling his bed three times over!"

"And with a prince at that!" Jem smirks, dark eyes roving over the three men, scrutinizing. "And we were worried about Nasir and you. It appears you both have settled in just fine."

"Apologies. What my brothers and I are trying to say is we are very pleased to meet you." Always the face of control and poise, Lido raises his hand and gently allows a few violet lights to swirl in a greeting from his fingertips. "Your home is lovely."

"And kin of Nasir's is always welcome here." Duro bows his head. It's not something any of the men familiar with him expected him to say, voice deeper as he takes on the mantle of prince. "Are you settled in? We must have rooms prepared for you."

"We have not had the chance." Lido gathers his cloak around his shoulders, glancing out the nearby window at the billowing snow. "Perhaps somewhere warmer than the medic's rooms?"

"Of course." Duro nods, his signature crooked grin pulling across his face. "Let us proceed to the hall for some food, and after, I am sure the servants will have readied your rooms. Close to the king's suite, I presume? To be close to your brother and nephew?"

"If it is allowed, then yes, we prefer it." Kalmar interjects, suddenly looking very serious as he slips near his older brother. "I think it best we stay as close as possible to Nasir and Malik."

"Do you sense something?" Pietros asks quickly in Pythonissan, brow furrowing. 

"Not time nor place. Later." Lido answers, lowly, turning to flash a smile at the Alptraum men. "Please, Prince Duro, lead on. I am eager to see the rest of your palace."

They move down the hall, each of them falling into a fairly straight line. Even Tove, head ducked and abashed, falls into line, keeping pace but glancing readily before him. Only Kalmar hesitates, staring out the window at the flurry of snow now clinging to the window panes. He wishes suddenly that he was back in Cypress, curled up on his chair with the summer sunlight warming his back. Instead, he stands in the long cold hall of Galena, not even the sun enough to warm him. 

\- - - 

Bagoas life has been made up of watching and waiting. He was raised in the brothels of Galena, an illegitimate child allowed to stay only because of his mother's favor with the master of the house. He spent his early years in the service of the kitchen staff, cleaning laundry after the women and men had performed their service, washing windows and dishes, and helping serve food at dinners. 

When he grew older, Bagoas began his training for the royal house - handpicked by one of the king's servants for the smooth tan of his skin and his large eyes. A rumor had gone around the brothel that he had been chosen to serve in Prince Agron's house, a gift for his birthday. Bagoas had never heard the confirmation, though upon seeing Nasir for the first time, he cannot help but draw conclusions. Still, Bagoas has begun his training in observation, stationed in a small cupboard with two holes cut out to spy into the brothel's always busy bedrooms. 

He supposes that it is not so different as to now. Though he has not been required to use his training on the royal family, he has been privy numerous times to Agron and Nasir's passions. The quiet moans and cries from inside Nasir's bedroom cannot help but echo into the rest of the suite, the lingering looks and hands before the fire at night, the way Nasir will nuzzle against Agron’s throat when he goes to check on Malik. The royal couple always seemed changed in the morning, Agron proud and grinning, Nasir pressed to his side, demanding slower kisses, looping his arms around Agron’s neck. 

Bagoas, Diona, and Chadara had huddled together behind giggling hands and a crack in the stones just to the left of their bedroom door, barely being able to see anything but _knowing_ what was happening within. He supposes he should feel guilty, spying on the couple in their most intimate moments, but they do not seem to mind. A few times, Agron will leave the bedroom in the middle of it, catch the three awkwardly trying to appear nonchalant against the wall. Agron’s modest enough to hold a towel around his waist, low slung and body glistening as he grabs up an amphora of wine or a small basin of oil, winking at the trio as he retreats back inside, siren called by Nasir’s soft moan of his name. 

Now though, it is not a stolen moment or a quiet spying. Instead, Bagoas stands vigilant and straight backed, keeping watch as the king slowly slips deeper into the warm water. The bathroom in the king's suite is bigger than the consort's, smooth marble granite floors and a high ceiling cut with blue and silver stained glass. The basin itself is cut into the floor, a trail of three steps leading down into the warm depths. Agron lounges on the far end, head tilted back against the smooth stones, arms outstretched. Bagoas can see the water lapping at his chest, muscles pulled taught and glistening until it disappears under the murky blue water. He hadn't let Bagoas spread oil on him or watch his disrobe, had only requested a thick cloth to drape over his eyes and to be left in silence.

The incense in the room trail slow clouds of eucalyptus and mint, the smell making Bagoas’ head swim – lulled into a half sleep as he watches the steady rise and fall of Agron’s chest. It is why he doesn’t hear the door open, only startled when a cool hand gently touches his shoulder. Nasir could be mistaken for a servant, for Bagoas' twin, with the way he is dressed - thin champagne colored pants slit up both sides, hair long and down, drawn back on the sides with thin gold clips. Practically naked in a way that has Bagoas dropping his gaze, bowing as low as he can. With Agron, it is lust – the appreciation of the curve of his muscles, the thick set of his shoulders usually encased by thick leather straps. With Nasir, it is awe. Bagoas cannot gaze upon him without remembering the power that lies inside of him, the smooth stomach that once held their most beloved son.

Nasir tucks his fingers under Bagoas' chin, guides him back up and then motions towards the door with a small tilt to his head. It is a silent command, one given and expected to be followed. Turning, Nasir pads silently across the marble floor to the shelves along the left-hand wall, peering at them through the thick haze. He trails his fingers over the glass bottles, selecting one as Bagoas slowly pulls the door shut. There is a small room off the side which will allow him to wait in case he is needed.

Rolling the bottle between his palms to warm it, Nasir turns his gaze to his husband. Stripped of his armor and cuffs, Agron’s smooth skin glistens with water. There are a few scars sprinkled over him, a rough looking patch of skin on his chest, lines on his arms from battles and brawls. Nasir has touched each of them, tasted them and felt Agron’s pulse jump from the attentions. He knows this man, this titan among men, has carved a place in his heart for Agron to always reside. There will never be anyone else. 

Kneeling down behind him, Nasir uncorks the cobalt bottle, drizzling the thick oil onto his fingers before slowly reaching out. He eases his palms down Agron’s chest, slides his fingers over the smooth muscles, teases the tips of his fingers over dusty nipples and then just past, his knees almost touching Agron’s back, lingering close. It earns him a groan, something deep and tinged with a growl as Agron arches out of the water, abs flexing. 

“You should be resting.” 

Agron tilts his head, presses his cheek to Nasir’s thigh as he continues to massage the oil across Agron’s sternum. He groans again when Nasir’s fingers move up, trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his chest again, body breaking out in goosebumps.

“It is not taxing for me to take care of you.” Nasir pours more oil on his hands and digs his palms into Agron’s chest, massaging deep, tight muscle. 

"You are on bed rest. Strict lack of movement." Agron eases one of his hands out of the water, reaches up to wrap his fingers around Nasir's wrist. "Medic’s orders."

"Hush. I'm okay. It's been a week."

Nasir murmurs his reply, hands retracing their steps and flexing, rubbing soothing circles across the sharp bones of Agron’s collar. He notices the wolf necklace there, the chain new but the charm the same. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Agron’s jaw, bends further down to run his palms over the ridges of Agron’s abs, fingertips brushing his hips before sliding back up. 

“Lean forward for me.” Nasir nuzzles into Agron’s hair, gently takes the cloth from his eyes.

Agron does as he's told, tucks his knees up and leans into them, exposing his back. There are scars here too, none more prevalent than the three lines sloped from his one shoulder to his opposite hip, thin but viewable up close. It is the last thing Isolde gave him. Nasir moves in behind him, keeps kneeling as he pours the bottle of oil over the slope of Agron's shoulders. He catches it with his palms, thumb digging into the tense arch of Agron's neck. He massages it slowly, careful as Agron groans, dropping his chin to his chest. 

"That's it." Nasir murmurs, letting his hands warm, magic slowly easing over his skin. "Let me take care of you."

Agron relaxes slowly, weary shoulders slumping as Nasir digs the heel of his hands into the line of his spine. He does not usually allow himself this - the slow nirvana of calm, the tension and stress ebbing from him. And yet, he cannot deny the pleasure in it, the ability to hand himself over, to trust his husband to help ease the pain along his back. He can feel Nasir's breath on his ear, smell the jasmine in his hair. His cock twitches at the next roll of Nasir's hands, moaning deep in his chest, and the _want_ is overwhelming. 

Leaning forward more to reach over to Agron’s chest again, Nasir’s hair brushes Agron’s back, fingers soothing away sinewy tension from his pecs, down over his stomach. His wedding ring catches on Agron’s left nipple again, another zing of pleasure racing through him, cock head brushing against his stomach. Agron wants to reach down for it, to tug slow and gentle, letting the tension build, but is distracted at the soft kiss Nasir presses against the sharp bone of his cheek. The sensation makes shivers wrack through him, eyes fluttering open.

"Nasir." Agron is surprised at the gasp in his voice, leaning back heavily into Nasir’s hold. 

“Fuck, I love your body.” Nasir traces Agron’s right nipple with his fingernail, stroking his nails over his abs with the other. “You have no idea Agron how much. Love it when your pressed up against me and I can feel all that heavy, thick muscle weighing me down. Makes me want you so much.”

Agron rolls his neck and tries to keep still, fists flexing in the water against his thighs. There is a deep ache in him, a kind of pleasure mixed with pain, as his body relaxes under Nasir’s careful hands and yet comes alive. He can feel his cock leaking, leaning back to be enveloped in Nasir’s arms, his scent fresh and thick, cutting through the incense burning in the corners of the room.

“You’re so hard.” Nasir observes, his cheeks resting against Agron’s as his hands keep tracing small circles over his abs. “Look.” 

A sliver of gold slides from Nasir’s flat palm down over Agron’s stomach, flickering over his hips and then spiraling up his cock. It pulls a deep growl from Agron, the warmth of the magic sending warm heat up him. Hiding his grin in Agron’s neck, Nasir does it again, coaxing his magic to pulsate along Agron.

“Nasir.” Agron repeats, turning his head sharply to catch Nasir’s mouth in a kiss, biting at his lips. He wants to be rougher, to entice those little hisses and moans he loves so much, but Nasir’s hands are still massaging him and he feels delirious from all the sharp sensations coursing through him, fraying his nerves.

“Touch yourself.” Nasir gaps in to Agron’s ear, his thumb tracing down either side of Agron’s spine, massaging over his neck. “I want to watch you stroke your cock.”

Agron does as he’s told, wrapping his fist around the base and twisting, guiding it up and over the crown. He can feel his cock leaking over his wet palm, uses it to ease the path of his fingers, tracing the thick vein along the underside. It sends jolts of pleasure through him, a heady pressure settling at the base of his spine. Agron already knows he’s not going to last, cock flushed red and throbbing. 

Nasir can feel his mouth nearly watering, watching closely as the thick tip of Agron’s cock keeps disappearing to reappear from the water, glistening with oil and precome. He knows it’s what it must look like inside of him, drawing out and then in, glistening and deep red. Every moan and growl that Agron lets slip out vibrates through Nasir’s chest too, catching he sound on his tongue when he kisses Agron. He doesn’t do it for long though, held captive by the sight of Agron’s fist speeding up over himself. 

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” Nasir gasps, his own cock nestled against Agron’s shoulders as he continues to stroke over his chest, along his collarbones. “That’s it. Look so good like this.”

“All for you.” Agron leans back, latches on with his teeth against Nasir’s neck and then sucks. “I’m going to split you in two later. Make you come untouched on my cock.”

“Oh!” Nasir gasps, writhing up against Agron’s back, his hands turning to claws as they rake down his pecs, drawing blood close to Agron’s left nipple. 

It’s enough though. Planting his feet in the bottom of the pool, Agron’s back arches sharply, a growl echoing in the empty space as his hand strips his cock. He shoots hard and fast, white clinging up his stomach, landing on his chest and over Nasir’s hand. It’s been a while since they’ve done this, but Agron’s body doesn’t seem to care. His orgasm is intense, making a new wave of goosebumps break out over his skin, but he doesn’t go completely hard. His cock nudges against his hip, still semi and drooling. 

“Shit.” Nasir mutters to himself, lifting his hand to his mouth and lapping the seed off. He meets Agron’s half shuttered gaze, grinning slowly as he sucks his knuckle, licking it clean. 

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” Agron mutters, panting hard as he comes down. 

Tucking his legs down, Agron turns slowly, body feeling too relaxed for quick movement. Nasir stares at him, hands still raised, a small, pleased smile resting on his full mouth. He moves to say something – probably to protest – but the words die when Agron reaches up, cupping the sides of his face. Agron pulls him in, presses his lips around Nasir’s bottom one and sucks, kissing him slow and careful, guiding his tongue into Nasir’s mouth. The sound he makes is more whimper than anything else, tilting his head when Agron’s drags him closer, mouths melding in wet heat.

Drawing back from him, Nasir tries to let his mind catch up, tries to put coherent thought together, but it’s hard when Agron’s green eyes shimmer like that, wet hands sliding between the thin fabric of his pants. His hand brushes Nasir’s half hard cock, teases over his balls, before ghosts out again, reaching for the thin ribbons on the sides of his pants. Agron undoes them, keeps his gaze locked with Nasir’s as he separates the fabric, efficiently stripping Nasir bare. 

Sliding his hands over Nasir’s thighs, Agron eases him off his knees, drags him forward over the marble until Nasir’s calves hang into the warm water. He makes a noise of surprise, watching raptly as Agron’s fingers walk over his legs, smoothing along the thick cut of his thighs, down over his knees, before pushing them open. 

“Oh.” The sound escapes Nasir before he can catch it, leaning back on his hands as Agron continues to stare at him. “Oh.”

Agron’s hand presses to Nasir’s chest, pushes him down and down until Nasir lies flat, and then he eases Nasir’s knees over his shoulder. Nasir tries to think of something to say, ribbons of light easing over his stomach, but it all goes away – dissipates into the air as Agron suddenly ducks his head, swallowing Nasir to the root. 

After so long together, Agron knows exactly how to wind Nasir up. He sucks hard and long, keeps his eyes on Nasir. It doesn’t take long, a flick of his tongue to Nasir’s leaking slit and his back arches, hips making an aborted attempt at thrusting. Agron does it again, watches the light flicker over the thin ring in Nasir’s navel, feels his heels digging into Agron’s back. It only encourages him further, swallowing roughly around Nasir’s cock.

It’s electric heat, pleasure that zings up Nasir’s spine, makes him cry out and then remember himself, clamping a hand across his mouth. The bathroom is mostly empty except for the tub, the sound of his pleasure echoing up among the ocean colored stained glass. Agron won’t allow it though, reaching out with quick fingers and snagging Nasir’s elbow, wrenching his palm down. 

“I want to hear you.” 

Agron’s voice is gravel, tongue tracing slowly up the vein running the length of Nasir’s cock. He nips at the crown, watches Nasir’s thighs and stomach flex, a whimper rattling out of him as he tries desperately to grip at the marble. He doesn’t give him a chance to breathe, taking him back in and hollowing his cheeks, hands rubbing up and down over Nasir’s thighs. Nasir squirms down against him, won’t grip his hair but whines, legs spreading open wider as Agron settles in. It gives him the room to reach down and stroke over Nasir’s balls, rolling them in his palm before reaching behind, finding where Nasir is warm and soft. 

Pressure builds below Nasir’s navel, heat spreading over his thighs, up into the stretch of his stomach. He tries to hold back, to let it burn like embers through him, to feel each hitch of breath, each slide of Agron’s tongue over him, but it’s too much. Craning his neck, Nasir looks down his body, watches Agron’s luminescent eyes stare back at him as he swallows again, mouth stretched tight, and it’s too much. Nasir applauds himself for the effort, attempting to swing his leg off his husband’s shoulder and pull away, but Agron’s grip is iron and he drags Nasir closer just as he loses control. 

Nasir comes with a moan, writhing against the cold marble floor, hands above his head. Agron’s grip on him never changes, digging his fingers into Nasir’s hips and holding him flat as he swallows. He continues to suckle on him, makes sure to get it all, before pulling back with a slick pop and a grin. 

“Fuck.” Nasir pants helplessly, tilting his head down. His body is shaking, trembling as he tries to regain some semblance of control. “ _Agron._ ”

Agron slowly lowers Nasir’s legs back down, caresses over his hips, along the soft line of his thighs. He can’t help follow the trail of goosebumps back up, skirts over the smooth skin on Nasir’s pelvis, tracing his navel ring. Hooking an arm around his waist and dragging him forward and then down, Agron pulls Nasir into the bath with him and into his lap.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you." Nasir tries to frown, still breathing rough as he wraps his leg over Agron’s waist, nestling against his side. "Wanna make you feel good too."

"You always make me feel good." 

Agron kisses his temple, fingers curling in Nasir’s long hair. He can feel Nasir's rapid heartbeat against his own ribs, both of them slowly coming down from their high. It is a rarity for them to be alone, without a need to be interrupted, that neither feel the urge to hurry from the bath. Instead, they let the minty water lap against them, soothed hazy and limp against one another. 

“I just noticed you sent Bagoas out.” Agron murmurs, amused, stretching out his legs. “Was your original plan to seduce me? Or did this just happen?”

“No,” Nasir strokes his fingers down Agron’s chest, grinning. “I only meant to come in and check on you. The rest was your own doing.”

“As if I need to plan it out.” Agron's smirk is pure ego, curling his arm up to drag Nasir into a slow kiss. "I think we've both learned we're insatiable."

Nasir hums his agreement, nuzzling into Agron's neck. He knows he's not a wolf, but he's learned the tendencies from the other wolves and from Malik. He wants to fill up on Agron's scent, on the feeling of his skin against Nasir's. In the cold snow, huddled in the dark, Nasir had accepted the fate of never seeing Agron again. He had begged his gods, and some of the Alptraum ones, to let him stay with the vampires if it meant sparing his family. He still would make the sacrifice. But now, huddled against his husband, naked and safe, Nasir's chest constricts with it. The knowledge that this all could have been gone - lost forever.

"How are you feeling?" Agron murmurs, fingers caressing along Nasir's jaw. He tilts his head up, making a distressed noise when he notices the tear slowly rolling down Nasir's cheek. 

"I'm okay." Nasir is quick to wipe it away, leaving a trail of water in its wake. "I just- It's a lot to take in."

"Hey." Agron murmurs, ducking his head down, "It's going to be okay. Spartacus is back. Your brothers are here. We're going to make a plan and-"

"I would have stayed." Nasir cuts him off, palms pressed down and fingers spread. "He could have had me forever if it meant you and Malik- If he had wanted just me-"

"No." Agron shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Nasir. "No me without you. No life without you. I would not let you stay and rot in that horror."

"I wasn't lying before," Nasir closes his eyes, can still see it every time. "I heard your voice. Your laughter. Could still taste the wine from your mouth. I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave you."

"I know. I know you couldn't. I'll always come for you." Agron holds Nasir's face, cradles him as close as he can. "I always will. No matter what."

"I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind." Nasir hiccups through a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know myself anymore.”

"You have been through a lot." Agron leans in, kisses Nasir's cheek, his own eyes burning with unshed tears. "It will be okay soon."

 _I can still feel his poison inside of me._ Nasir confesses the words in a broken whisper, eyelashes wet against his cheeks. _It's still within me. It won’t leave._

 _Lido said it will take time. You will heal._ Agron tries to sooth him, watches the licks of red flames dance over Nasir’s bare shoulders. _We both will._

 _What if he comes back? Agron, I would do anything to protect this family._ Hiccupping, Nasir drags his wet hands over his cheeks again.

_He can't have you._ Agron growls, hands curling sharp on Nasir's  
shoulders. _Nasir, listen to me, I'll fucking kill him myself before I let him anywhere near you again._

"I love you." Nasir mumbles, presses his lips to Agron's palm, holding his hand between both of his own. "I really do."

“It’s going to be okay, alright? Just breathe with me. We’re not going anywhere. I love you and you are safe now.”

Agron pulls Nasir down to him, curling him back up along Agron's side, keeps him close and grounded with his slow breathing. They float like that for a while, the quite as the incense burn low, the lights shifting around the room. Deep in the king’s suite, the rest of the world blends away to silence, not even the dripping of water disturbing them. Agron feels almost as if he could stay here forever, let the water slowly consume both of them. 

"Duro said you were looking pretty tired earlier in the meeting.” Nasir mumbles, drowsy and soft. He pushes away from Agron’s side, leaning back into the warm water to wet his hair. “Things not go well?”

“Fuck the meeting.” Agron groans, leaning his head back so it rests on the marble again. “Fuck everything.”

“That would be quite a feat.” Nasir pulls a stray bottle from the side of the tub towards him, upturning the oil into his palm. “Though I suppose if that is your goal, I volunteer as first.”

Cracking an eye open, Agron watches Nasir comb through his hair, a droplet of oil escaping to trace the tendons of his neck. “Is that a formal invitation or request?”

“Both and neither.” Nasir sticks his tongue out at Agron. It’s gentle and playful compared to the tears that had just crowded Nasir’s eyes. “Tell me what happened today.”

“Bullshit.” Agron lifts his head, continues to openly stare at Nasir washing his hair. “Loyalty is worth nothing anymore. They all just expect me to promise riches and marriages and magic for their aid. Even Tankemenin spoke up about the dangers this war presents if we do not win, and yet I still had to shell out alliances and _donations_ towards some of our oldest friends.”

“How is Helio?” Nasir asks, raising an eyebrow. Even the mention of his name will bring a deep scowl still to Duro’s face, Pietros ducking his head. 

“Still mooning over your brother, or so I hear,” Agron rolls his eyes. He has little patience for the whole ordeal. “Tankemenin seemed less than pleased when we ran into Pietros and Auctus in the hall earlier. Helio nearly knocked into a table.”

“He’s young still and impressionable.” Nasir sighs, cascading water over his crown, massaging the small suds into his scalp. “Pietros is very fetching as well.”

“He has plenty of fiancés. I doubt he needs a high crowned prince for one too.” Agron reaches out with greedy hands, pulls Nasir to him and then down, letting the other man arch so Agron can help wash the soap from his hair. 

“You sound annoyed.” Nasir mumbles, eyes fluttering at Agron’s massaging fingers on his scalp. 

“I have no time nor need to concern myself with petty school boy crushes. We are at war.” Agron grunts, easing a few fingers over Nasir’s brow. “Besides, I have no use for straying eyes. I am married, happily at that.”

Nasir grins slow, peeking an eye open. “So it doesn’t stem from being jealous Pietros is getting attention and not you?”

Agron slowly raises an eyebrow, hand warm on the back of Nasir’s neck as he pulls him out of the water. There isn’t a chance for him to escape, Agron bodily pinning him against the side of the tub and leaning down. He kisses him rough, tongue pressing into Nasir’s mouth and swallowing the sharp sound Nasir makes, fingernails scrambling on his back. Sliding his hands over Nasir, Agron grips his ass and lifts, guides his legs around Agron’s waist again. 

“You think,” Agron asks, panting as his fingertips turn sharp on Nasir’s soft skin, “I care about some fucking teenage prince out there when I have you here? Wet and naked and _mine_?”

“Your majesty.” Nasir tries for teasing, gasping around the words with a wide smile. “I only wish to please you, _my king_. You have the choice of anyone in your kingdom. I don’t want to stand in your way.”

Agron growls his reply, smacking Nasir’s ass to watch his eyes get wide, mouth dropping. He loves the glassy way Nasir’s pupils dilate, the shimmer of gold scales ghosting over his chest. “You really want to get into that again?”

“No.” Nasir nudges forward, uses the grip around Agron’s hips to grind against him. He glances down, guides Agron’s gaze too to see Agron’s cock dragging against Nasir’s inner thigh. “I want you to put that inside me.”

“This?” Agron asks, wrapping a hand around his base, tapping the tip against the smooth cut of Nasir’s hipbone. 

“Yeah.”

Tangling his fingers in Nasir's hair, Agron drags him forward, mouths melding again in a deep kiss. It's so hot in here it's hard to tell where the water and oil mix with sweat, both of them dripping as Nasir's mouth falls open on a moan, tasting himself on Agron's tongue. It makes him cling tighter, Agron using the buoyancy of the water to lift and then pull Nasir against him, thrusting up the smooth slide of their skin. The motion drags his cock over Nasir's thighs, chasing friction, before settling between his cheeks. Nasir has to pull away when Agron's cock drags over his hole, teasing at the rim before skirting away, thrusting into the soft line of his ass.

"Fuck, have I told you how big you are?" Nasir gasps, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip and chasing the motion with his tongue. He digs his fingers into Agron's shoulders, rocks against him, clenches along the searing heat splitting him in half. 

“You can take it. You have before.” Agron presses his smirk into the kiss, groaning when Nasir scratches over his shoulder. 

“Felt it for days after.” Nasir confesses around a whimper, hands gravitating from Agron’s back to his chest and then retreating to his neck. “Always make me want it again.”

“Show me.”

Agron encourages, hands dragging down Nasir's back, sliding over his hair to grip Nasir's hips. He's going to bruise him, but Agron can barely care when Nasir throws his head back, grinding down on him, still trembling from his orgasm. The oil is too far for Agron to reach, and he doesn’t need it, hips moving in quick bursts, fucking into the smooth slide between Nasir’s ass. It’s tight and perfect, Nasir squeezing down on him and his breath on Agron’s face. 

Agron kisses him brutally, hard and possessive as he locks his arms around Nasir, body tensing. He knows he should probably be more embarrassed about how quickly it took to come, but with the way Nasir's panting in his ear, bottom lip caught between his teeth, Agron can't help but surrender. He bites his pleasure into Nasir's neck like a path, cock twitching hard and shooting up over Nasir's lower back. 

"Fuck the gods." Agron groans deep in his chest, turning them so he can collapse against the side of the tub. His legs are twitching, hands heavy as they smooth over Nasir's trembling stomach and up to his chest. "Come here.”

Nasir follows him over, hard and leaking, but Agron doesn’t reach for his cock. Instead, he grips Nasir’s hips and lifts, picking him up out of the tub and onto the marble floor. He follows a moment after, cock still fucking hard and glistening as he settles between Nasir’s spread thighs. He’s about to lean down and kiss him again but gets distracted by the smooth lines of Nasir’s neck, presses his teeth down and sucks. 

“Agron.” Nasir moans, knees digging into Agron’s ribs, hands desperate on his spine. 

Agron doesn’t answer, sucking a line of marks down the side of Nasir’s neck, blooming a blood bruise on his chest. He can feel Nasir’s pulse against his lips and Agron is too drunk on skin and sweat to follow the path that took them from Nasir’s tears and Agron’s guilt to the wet heat of this moment – writhing together on the ground. Instead, he drags the oil bottle over, pours it over his palm and presses his fingers up against where Nasir is hot and soft.

“I need to tell you something.” 

Nasir is rolling his hips up, grinding his cock into the grooves of Agron’s abs, chasing pleasure and teasing Agron’s cock against his ass. There isn’t enough room, both slipping on the wet floor, but Agron grips hard and drags the tip over Nasir’s hole and it’s too fucking perfect. Agron does it again, teasing against him, lapping over Nasir’s jaw and back to his ear, nuzzling against him. It’s overwhelming and hot so when Agron finally pushes in two fingers and Nasir gasps, it’s nearly lost. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Drawing back just enough to breathe, Agron continues to pump his fingers, spreading them wide to stretch him. Nasir’s body is always tight and it hasn’t been forever since they’ve done this, but he’s still healing and Agron wants to make him feel good. It’s hard to grip his knees down on the slippery floor, but he somehow manages to, grinding his cock along the soft skin of Nasir’s thigh.

“I know.” Agron slips in a third finger, watches Nasir’s eyes roll and his back arch off the cold floor. “I can smell it all over you. That soft, warm scent you had when you were with Malik. Makes me want to be next to you constantly, always have you against me – safe and nearby.”

“Oh.” Nasir locks his ankles over the small of Agron’s back, draws him down until Agron’s weight settles on him. He can barely concentrate, knows they need to talk about this but Agron's biting along his jaw, and Nasir’s cock jumps every time he presses his teeth in a little harder. “I thought maybe-“

"No," Agron growls, his fingers easing out of Nasir and moving up, palm spread wide over his navel. "You know if I had my way, you’d always be full of me. Covered in my scent and thick with my child."

Nasir groans, nails digging into Agron's shoulders. He tries to say something, to apologize for not telling Agron sooner, to try and reassure himself that it's going to be okay, but Agron kisses him slow and deep. He curls his tongue up with Agron's, chasing his own taste as Agron slowly slides into him. 

"Fuck," Agron growls, hips nudging up against Nasir's ass. He can't hold still, can't pause, already drunk on the way Nasir's squeezing around him. He grips his hips and slides home again, grinding his cock against the soft inner walls, grinning when Nasir suddenly lets out a sharp cry. 

"Right there." Heels digging into the marble, Nasir lifts his hips and thrusts back towards Agron. "Shit. Agron. Don't stop!"

It's delirium, the sharp sound of skin against skin, panted breath. The temperature in the room helps slide them against one another, mixed with the water and oil still clinging to them. Agron wraps an arm around Nasir's waist, tugs him up more into his lap. His thrusts turn brutal, dragging his cock over and over inside of him. 

Even though he's already come once, Nasir's body thrums with pleasure, already on the brink. He clings to Agron, hands caressing over and over his shoulders and back, smoothing over his chest. He can barely breathe with Agron's weight on him, panting into Agron's mouth, their kisses dissolving into more tongue and bites than anything else. It feels as if they’re melting into one another, the lines between them blurred and hazy.

"Love you so much." Agron groans, petting his hand in small circles over Nasir's stomach. It is still too early to hear a heartbeat or feel the phantom press of magic against his palm, but Agron can’t help grinning as he watches the way Nasir's muscle flexes under his fingertips. 

Nasir grins up at him, hooking his hand around Agron's neck and flexing. Agron lets himself be tipped over, guiding Nasir over onto his back. He's careful not to slip out, watches Nasir's eyelashes flutter as he settles, slipping deeper. From this angle, Agron can see over Nasir's shoulder, the ceiling hung heavy with vines and flowers. As Agron watches, a crown of white lilies blooms over Nasir's crown, followed closely by golden scales. 

"Come on." Agron gasps, encourages with a hand sliding down Nasir's sternum, feeling the sharp cut of ribs. "I want to see you."

Rotating his hips, Nasir braces his hands behind him on Agron's thighs and eases himself up and down. From this angle, Agron's cock slides in deeper, spears through Nasir until he can barely breathe, only concentrate on the heavy weight inside of him. He doesn't stop though, chases pleasure and cries out, lets his stomach flex with every roll. Agron snags a finger in the gold chain around his waist, pulls himself up to wrap his arms around Nasir's body. 

It’s enough and more, both of them staring at one another, lips pressed together in a searing kiss as they come apart. Nasir shakes against Agron, his seed sticking between them, a canopy of wisteria in white, pink, and gold hang down in long vines. A few lilacs burst forth, spreading their small purple buds across the water, a cluster of daffodils along a window sill. 

Agron holds his hands in Nasir’s hair and spills inside of him with a growl, the wolf inside of him howling and snarling to come out. He can smell mate and heat and fertility, screaming to get closer. Agron manages to swallow it back, barely, but his spine throbs with the desire to shift. It’s always harder when they’re like this, lost in the delirium of pleasure, drunk off each other’s scent and skin. 

“Every time we do this,” Nasir pants, his cheek against Agron’s shoulder distorting the sound of the words, “I wonder why we ever do anything else.” 

“I agree.” Agron grumbles, fingertips restless along Nasir’s back. “Remind me when I get feeling back into my legs to make that an official decree.”

Nasir giggles, turning his head to nuzzle against Agron’s neck, drawing in a slow breath. He knows it will be a while until they both work up the energy to separate, instead basking in the feeling of being alone for once and with each other. He will cherish it, count it as a blessing, and try to not let the darkness surrounding them creep in. 

\- - - 

Ashur trains his eyes up to the ceiling of the tent, watches a spider slowly weaving itself in a circle. It's body is a bright magenta, a small black spiral in base of its stomach. From this distance, he can almost smell the fly slowly decaying in the top corner. Someone outside the tent has spilled blood on the snow, the smoke up from the canyon clinging to the air like a bad taste. 

"Your senses will settle," Lucretia stands by the door, a crimson goddess surrounded by dark shadows and gleaming. "It will take time."

"I can see everything, smell everything." Ashur tries to sit up, body shaking as his nerves fire and crackle. "It is a miracle."

"Caesar's venom is potent." Ilithyia brackets her servant in the corner, a goblet of wine in her hand. Ashur can tell it's more blood than vine. “Over time, your own powers will strengthen and you will gain control of them.”

“I will be powerful then?” Ashur asks, raising an eyebrow. He can’t feel a heartbeat in his chest, but it feels as if his blood is rushing.

“Some day.” Lucretia smiles, tight lipped. 

Ashur reaches for his mouth, feels over his fangs and grins. It hurts when they descend, cut him open. Ashur wants to snarl, wants to feel the power course through him, to hunt and kill. Even with the terrors, the monsters lurking now in Caesar's army, the tension running through the camp as creatures from the shadows slip into rank. It won't be long now before they make their move, to take and kill when they want. Ashur knows Caesar will have the Alptraum royal family in his hand soon enough. Nasir and Agron cannot fight forever. 

"How do you fair, Ashur?” The doorway is vacant and then it's not, Caesar striding in with a cloak of brilliant red. It seems 

"Well, my prince." Ashur can smell something on Caesar, something familiar that he can't place. 

"Good. You should ready yourself then. Your task has just begun." Caesar moves forward, sliding through shadows as if they hug him and then release, a phantom with his shock of blond hair and sharp eyes. 

"My task?" Ashur presses his feet to the frozen ground, tries to find the strength to stand. It's pointless though as Caesar draws closer to him, brushes his cold fingers over Ashur's shoulder and up the side of his neck. 

"Yes _filioli_ ," Caesar grins slowly - monstrous and evil. Ilithyia and Lucretia come to stand behind him, a trio glaring and sharp teethed, "You are going back to visit your little brother.”

“What?” Ashur feels a deep swoop in his stomach, mouth falling into a deep scowl. ”Why?”

Caesar’s slap comes quickly and efficiently, a sharp noise as his fingers connect with Ashur's cheek. He bares his teeth, a snarl spit directly into Ashur's face, eyes crimson. 

"Do not fucking question me. You failed me once. I will not be so fucking merciful the next time."

"I tried, your majesty. Nasir hid the child. I do not know how. It is magic beyond my understanding." Ashur rapidly tries to object, shaking his head. "You do not know what it is like in that house. They are not normal royals. Agron's council never leave them. Getting Nasir alone was nearly impossible."

"Stop." Caesar draws in a slow breath, attempting to calm himself. "I do not want to hear your pathetic excuses."

Ashur closes his mouth, subdued and chastised. He knows that Caesar doesn't truly understand though, the magic that thrums in the Galena castle, the mystery of why Agron and Nasir can look at one another and communicate, of the large snake soldier that will not leave Malik's side - an immortal warrior sent directly from the gods. There is too much lore for Caesar to truly understand.

"You will deliver them a message. We are to war."

Caesar pulls a thick velvet bag out from below his scarlet cloak, the bottom soaked in blood. He tosses it to Ashur, the ties falling open to reveal the head of a large wolf. It is frozen in a snarl, yellow eyes still wide and glassy. 

"And what would you have me tell them?" Ashur asks, fighting the urge to lean forward, to suck the blood out of the fabric. His hunger calls deep within him, a burning fire that starts in his gut and works its way forward. 

"Tell them." Caesar tosses the bag at Ashur's feet. "They have sealed the fate of their people. Either they surrender and save Alptra or we meet upon the battle field at the full moon. If they do appear, I will descend upon their castle and kill and slaughter every man, woman, and child until I draw them out myself."

 

\- - - 

 

They've all pulled couches and chairs in from around the room, formed a circle with pillows and blankets on the floor. It's a mixture of rich fabrics, tan skin and gold coins, bleeding into rough leather and thick fur. Mika and Jem bracket Duro and Pietros, weaving a strange tale about one of the towns they stopped in. Pietros looks skeptical, but Duro is listening with wide eyes, enchanted as Mika laughs and a shower of lights dance from his crown and settle on Jem’s.

Kalmar has settled in a chair, fiddling with a small wooden box that Barca had given to him earlier, quietly whispering to Spartacus. The two seem to have fallen into easy, snarky friendship especially after Kalmar promised to write to his faerie prince for assistance. 

Lido holds court with Naevia, Mira, and Ariadne sprawled across a cluster of pillows, Crixus beside him on the couch. He seems to be listening to one of Crixus’ old war stories, a few icicles clinging across his knuckles. Lido is the lightest dressed of the brothers, both him and Ariadne sticking to the thin, gauzy clothes of the Seers. 

In the far corner, Nasir sprawls over the side of a settee, arm hooked over Agron's chest, watching Malik's delighted grin at having his parents' full attention. He’s wearing a onesie that is almost too short on him, the chub of his ankles sticking out where the soft fabric ends and his socks begin. It is already becoming clear that Malik will be tall, stretching it seems every day. He’s getting better at being able to sit up and hold himself, perched on Agron’s lower stomach.

“Nearly five months and he’s almost grown out of another set of clothes.” Nasir comments, curled half on his stomach and half on his side to watch his son. 

“Growing boys don’t need any fancy clothes.” Agron shakes his head, cooing the words at Malik. “Do you? You just want to run and play in the dirt and bite things, right?”

Malik tilts his head to the side, big green eyes blinking up at his fathers before he starts to giggle again. Amused by everything, Malik smacks his hands down on Agron’s stomach, fingers flexing 

“He’s still a little prince.” Nasir chastises gently, reaching out to brush his fingers through Malik’s wild curls. “Who still needs to wear clothes and learn manners.”

“No,” Agron extends the word, shaking his head. “You don’t need to do that, do you baby boy?”

Nasir purses his lips, blowing a raspberry at Malik, shaking his head.

“Da da da da," Agron prompts, using Malik's grip on his finger to wave his arms. Malik wiggles, rocking back and forth, babbling quickly. "Can you say Dada little man? Come on. Show your baba how smart you are."

"Ah!" Malik bares his gums, tries to wrinkle his nose. It's an attempt at a growl, a reflection of his father's own scowl. Agron replies with his own, flashing his eyes only to watch Malik dissolve into giggles. 

"He's learning all your bad habits." Nasir sing songs, pressing his lips to Agron's jaw. 

"My bad habits?" Agron glances up at his husband, "How?"

"You're turning my sweet baby boy into a growly wolf." Nasir chastises gently, lifting his hand from Agron's chest to wiggle his fingers. 

"Ah!" Malik cries out, head tilted back and watching as Nasir dances a rainbow train of lights over his head. "Ah ah ah!"

"Malik," Nasir coos, spinning the sparks into a small tornado, having them descend into a crown along Malik's curls. "Tell your daddy how you're just a precious little babe. Aren't you? Baba's favorite little boy."

"But look at those teeth." Agron gently pushes his finger against Malik's bottom lip, drawing his jaw down, "Two already? You're getting so big!"

"They're sharp as fangs." Nasir mutters, grinning at Malik when he grins up at his father. "Aren't they?"

"See! Becoming a little wolf pup every day." Agron lets out a soft hum from his chest, more animal than man, a kind of thrum that tinges along the border of a growl. 

Malik seems to try and be forming words, distracted by the leather straps down Agron's chest, but he freezes when Agron begins to make the noise. It causes the other noises in the room to dim, a slow rumble forming around the sound. Malik slowly cocks his head to the side, tiny hands pressing down against Agron's stomach. Slowly, Malik begins to whine, high pitched and rapid, whimpering back at Agron. 

"Agron," Nasir whispers, unmoving as Malik's fingers flex on Agron's chest. "What-"

Slowly, Agron lets out a deeper growl, shifting tones and eyes bleeding into neon. The sound vibrates his chest and stomach, muscles flexing under his skin, tempting and thick. Across the room, Duro's head turns quickly, a ring of yellow slowly growing from his pupil out. Malik seems transfixed as well, letting out a sharp howl - high pitched and needy - before suddenly he changes.

Sitting hunched on his hide legs, clothes pooled around him, is a small black and tawny wolf cub. He's covered in soft fur, little black nose wrinkling as he keeps making a high-pitched whine, eyes gleaming a familiar luminescent green.

“Holy shit.“ Duro trails off, half risen from his spot. 

“Agron,” Nasir repeats himself, breathless and wide eyed, “did you just turn our son into a wolf?”

“He’s always been a wolf. He just didn’t know how to change yet.”

Reaching forward, Agron gently eases a hand under Malik’s soft belly, pulling him closer to let Malik nuzzle against his throat. They scent each other, Malik lapping at Agron’s rough stubbled jaw, before he wiggles further back, trying to climb over Agron’s shoulder to get to Nasir. He uses his claws to ease his way up Nasir’s tunic, curling close to press his wet nose just under Nasir’s ear. 

“He’s making sure you know he’s still yours.” Agron murmurs, petting along Malik’s back. “That you still know your baby.”

“Malik,” Nasir soothes, caresses his fingers between Malik’s ears, “Of course you’re still mine. My little wolf baby.” 

Malik nuzzles into Nasir’s neck, making a soft thrumming noise almost like purring. In this form, his eyes are still the same but he’s taller than when he is human, a row of razor sharp teeth along the bottom gum. He also has deadly sharp claws like his father, curled and razor thin. It’s still a new and fragile magic though and i it only takes a few moments for him to suddenly pop back into human form with a sharp cry. 

“Oh honey.” Nasir cradles him close, stroking down his back. “It’s okay.”

“It hurts.” Agron frowns, easing Malik’s diaper back on him and then a small fur blanket. “He’s probably scared.”

Leaning in, both Agron and Nasir nuzzle against him, keeping him cocooned between their chests. It seems to sooth him, Malik latching onto a strand of Nasir’s hair and resting a curled fist on Agron’s cheek, whimpering but slowly stopping the tears. The others in the room have fallen silent, watching closely at the new parents, both of them seeming to instinctually know what Malik needs. 

The click of the front door distracts them – waiting to hear Bagoas’ soft foot falls – only to be met instead by the thick cadence of boots on marble. Entering into the main lounge of the king’s suite, six guards fan out – led by Barca. He’s removed his helmet, the metal tucked under his arm, and he doesn’t look at his fiancés. Instead, he bows low, moving towards the royal couple. 

Agron stands quickly, easing one hand behind to gently keep Nasir – now also having risen – and Malik behind him. Any joy that had filled the room only moments before dissipates, shriveling up smiles and laughter as the guards’ armor shimmers in the bright fire light. 

“What is it? What has happened?” Agron barks, angry at the fear he can smell over everyone in the room. 

“The guards at the main gate of the city apprehended a vampire trying to gain entrance.” Barca’s scowl barely moves as he talks. "He claims he has a message for the kings."

Behind Agron, Nasir lets out of a soft exhale, his hand wrapped around Agron’s bicep beginning to shake. He’s not the only one to react though, Pietros stands quickly as well as Lido. They move towards one another and then towards Nasir, hands clasped. 

“I don’t understand. Who is here?” Duro asks, looking at the pinched and gaunt expressions. 

“Ashur.” Nasir answers, his cheek pressed to Malik’s temple. “Ashur is here to see me.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle descends upon the city of Galena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't even begin to tell you how amazing it feels to finish this fic. I started of magic & monsters on February 24th, 2015 and now is completed on April 4th, 2017. It has been a struggle sometimes to get through it, to keep creating and adding content, but you have all been so wonderful and so supportive of me. I can't believe it's finally reached its ending. 
> 
> A special thank you goes out to habibinasir. Honestly, I would not be half the writer I am today if it weren't for her constant encouragement and words of advice. She is truly a driving force behind om&m creation. 
> 
> Second, special thanks to braveremus and crazzzedope for lisening to my crazy rambling and insane plot ideas. 
> 
> Lastly, tipsyfictionwriter who told me nearly five years ago that I better start fucking writing nagron fic. Without her push, I would probably still be lurking and watching from the sidelines. 
> 
> Thank you to all the readers and comments and kudos. This has been insane but I loved every minute of it.

_"You don't have to do this."_

Agron has his hand resting on the small of Nasir's back, feeling the flickers of magic coursing through Nasir’s tattoo, licking at his palm. He has his body curled towards him, protective and looming as he tries to shield him away from the curious looks of those in the hall. The throne room doors tower before them, the faces of a hundred snarling wolves appearing to watch. It is a legacy of Alptraum royalty, ancestors waiting to celebrate and punish all who enter.

_”He hated me. My whole life. All those years, we mourned him. My father wept for years. His son lost to vampires. I held hope that we would one day be reunited. And for what?”_ Nasir cannot raise his eyes, trained to where his burgundy velvet slippers peak out from around his thick, royal cloak. _I nearly got us all killed for my foolishness.”_

Agron leans in, ignores the plethora of guards lining the hall to gently kiss the soft curve of Nasir’s cheek. 

_”You did what any brother would. Had I stood in your shoes, I would have done the same.” ___

__“No. You wouldn’t have. You would have been stronger, would have seen him for what he was. You did see him. I just didn’t want to.”_ _

__A tremble slides across Nasir's bottom lip but he presses his teeth down against it to stop, fingers flexing against the cold leather straps of Agron's armor. It seems to ground him, eyes squeezed shut._ _

__"Tell me what you wish for me to do to ease your suffering. I will kill him myself if it helps you to heal." Agron pets his fingers through Nasir’s hair, wants to draw him into his arms, wrap his cloak around him, and run away from this torment. Nasir is relentless though, standing strong even if he’s shaking._ _

__"No. I must do this."_ _

__Nasir reaches up, straightens the silver crown draped over his forehead. He looks healthier, glowing both from the pregnancy and the amount of magic being shared between the Pythonissan brothers. Agron can see the fear in Nasir though, the hesitation to push himself forward. He gently reaches down and laces his fingers through Nasir’s, squeezing once in strength._ _

__“My place is beside you.” Agron gives the motion for the servants to begin to open the throne doors. “In all things.”_ _

___”Do not leave it.”_ Nasir’s expression hardens, only a flicker of hesitation as Agron uses their joined hands to move them forward. _ _

__The throne room is mostly empty considering the size of the court there usually is. A row of allied kings, queens, and representatives line one side. Among them is the dignitaries from Muka, their slitted eyes brightening when Nasir enters. To their left, Tankemenin and Helio sit next to a group of huge trolls. The council takes up the other side, watching closely for any signal from the royal couple. Towards the door, a shadow cuts unnaturally between two pillars, Lido, Kalmar, Mika, Jem, and Pietros lingering behind the magic cloaking them._ _

__Ashur is standing in the very center of the room, a velvet bag at his feet. He watches Agron and Nasir make their way from the door to the throne, one arm cross over himself, the other resting with his elbow to his hand, thumb against his lips._ _

__“My _dearest_ little brother.” He begins, his voice echoing in the large hall. “It warms my heart to see you once again and to be glowing with life. It has been such a time since I was here with you.”_ _

__A murmur ripples through the room, voices hushed at the scandal of the accusation, eyes trained to the royal couple. Nasir doesn’t flinch, still decadent in his dress, body wrapped in slivers of crimson and burgundy fabric, peaking skin across his torso. It would not be too far-fetched in Nasir is again with child, even with Malik barely five months. The gossip in court has long been that Agron will not take another lover nor retire to bed alone without his consort. It would be a smart political move to secure the throne as much as possible during a time of war. The more heirs, the more likely a throne can be reclaimed if lost._ _

__“Why are you here Ashur?” Nasir’s throne sits only six inches shorter than Agron’s on the same platform, the moon and stars carved to hang over him in a cascade of silver and gold. He looks godly perched the way he is, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of wine in the hand not grasping the king’s._ _

__“A welcome home, of course. Once again to stand beside my brother and his newly formed family.” Ashur bows low, his now cropped hair and demeanor making, him seem young – almost elated. His chest is heavy with jewels, hands studded in rings._ _

__“You are not welcome here.” Nasir scowls, brow lowering. “It is not the Alptraum way to show mercy, and yet we have spared you only this time. You are no brother of mine.”_ _

__“Ah! But blood does not agree, little brother.”_ _

__Ashur makes a grand gesture with his hand, a sort of wave, and it exposes the collar of his shirt. Beside his jugular, two scabs fester hot and red, a black sort of tar stained against it. The gasps are audible in the room as part of the council, those closest to the royal family make the connection. It is not Nasir that responds to it though, but instead Agron._ _

__“What has Caesar sent you deliver to us, leech?”_ _

__Agron still has a hold of Nasir’s hand, resting on the small throne’s arm. It forces him more forward in his own, shoulders looking massive as he tenses. The undercurrent of the room shifts as the royal couple does as well, both of them unblinking as they stare at Ashur, a sliver of red ghosting from Nasir’s bicep, over his wrist and onto Agron’s skin, the light getting lost in the straps of his armor._ _

__“My master has been most patient with this little game you insist upon, Wolf King.” Ashur’s eyes gleam scarlet for a moment. “But his hunger has yet to be sated. You belong to him. A vow sealed in blood.”_ _

__The candles in the room flicker, flames raising sharply as a rope of gold and red flashes over Nasir’s skin. He doesn’t move, only tightens his fingers down around Agron’s own._ _

__“I grow tired of this conversation.” Agron growls, lip curling back from his teeth. He appears more wolf like now, surrounded by the carvings and statues of his ancestors. “Contracts and bonds that were once forged were destroyed long ago. It is not the Alptraum nor the Roma way to marry to more than one. I already have a mate.”_ _

__“Your blood was in his mouth,” Ashur elongates the words, eyes narrowed and knowing, “Long before your little witch sunk his fangs into you.”_ _

__

__“Surely Caesar did not send you to us to discuss marriage proposals.” Nasir says slowly, scowl pulling down his full mouth. He has had enough. “Speak what message he sent and be done with it.”_ _

__Nodding slowly, Ashur turns to face the rest of the people in the throne room, watching the allies and council carefully as his voice raises, echoing in the large hall._ _

__“Caesar has been most merciful, allowing the royal family to deliberate and play this game. But patience has run thin. He offers you one last chance, but not to Agron and Nasir, but to the people of Alptra.” Ashur spreads his arms wide. “Turn over Agron, Nasir, and their child by the full moon, and Alptra will be spared. Caesar does not want this kingdom, only what is his. He will allow it to fall to the other heir and retract any threat.”_ _

__“Fuck this!” Duro snarls from the chairs, standing sharply. “He weaves lies and falsities.”_ _

__Agron makes a quick wave of his hand, growling sharply, and Duro slowly sits back down, fuming. There is an exchange with eyes, brothers glaring at one another, but there is also another cutting sharp. It is not just Agron and Duro, but a king to a subject. Duro bows his head once, Auctus and Barca on either side to calm him._ _

__“If you refuse,” Ashur turns sharply back to Agron and Nasir, eyes crimson now, “he will descend upon this castle. Slaughtering and maiming all who stand in his way. Galena’s streets will run with blood, the carnage to be feared for a thousand years. He will slaughter every man, woman, and child.”_ _

__“A threat he has made before.” Agron growls, rolling his eyes, “He has no power over this house.”_ _

__Ashur makes a grand bow again, waving his arm before him as he snatches the bag up from the ground. It leaves a blood stain on the marble, a crimson circle that Ashur dumps the contents into with little finesse. What lands is a tangle of blond hair, skin shrunken, gray, and thin, lips curled back over white teeth, fangs extended even in the decayed corpse state. Her green eyes stare out in glassy horror, painfully familiar._ _

__Duro’s howl is clipped, startled and pained as he stands once again, scrambling to get over the divide. Auctus, Barca, and Crixus latched onto him, keeping him in place as best as they can, a scuffle of over tipped chairs and hushed. Duro pours Alptraum curses, the sounds falling from his mouth inhumane and wailing. He barks something outside of language, looking up at Agron and he’s suddenly eight years old all over again – begging for Agron to help him. To sooth the pain that he can’t seem to escape._ _

__Agron has risen to his feet, shoulders rolled back and eyes glowing, half changed. He makes a soothing noise towards Duro, an aborted attempt as the noise cuts itself off. Beside him, Nasir appears tiny, hand pressed desperately to Agron’s bicep with eyes trained up. He knows this horror, knows the sharp and acidic churning in the gut when a loss hits like a blow. It is without need through, the shock of it grounding Agron in place, frozen even as Spartacus, on the other side, slowly takes a step forward._ _

__“It is not her.” Spartacus speaks slowly, as if convincing himself. “It is impossible.”_ _

__“A gift to the king.” Ashur motions to Isolde’s head. “A traitor executed for dissolving your marriage. He has waited long to show you how deep his devotion to you goes.”_ _

__“I heard her die.” Agron’s words are slurred around his fangs, shoulders hunched. Duro has quieted, but Agron cannot turn to him, paralyzed in horror. “I heard her screams. I smelt her blood. Her claws in my spine-”_ _

__“But you did not see.”_ _

__Ashur’s grin stretches over his face, knowing and bold. He chuckles a little, lapping a stray path of blood that splattered from his fingers to his wrist. It’s sickening as he gloats, appearing all knowing and untouchable. Upon the dais, Nasir presses his fingers to the inside of Agron’s wrist, holds as his magic courses out, searches to heal and help lessen the pain. He meets nothing but rage though, turning stricken back to Ashur._ _

__“A curious thing, mothers, wouldn’t you say, Nasir?” Ashur asks, tossing the velvet bag carelessly near the sprawl of Isolde’s blond hair. “Your own, so young and full of useless dreams, dead gods. All those crystals and gems and prayers and for what? To lead to this fate?”_ _

__“Stop.” Nasir snarls, easing his body over so his shoulder cuts into Agron’s chest, moving before him. “Hold your fucking tongue!”_ _

__“I hated her the moment Kallistos brought her back from Muka.” Ashur’s lip curls. “So holy. So _devote_. Fatin – blessed by Sator himself. Giving birth to those disgusting twins. Born with a crimson thread around them. And then you. Our darling gem. A god among men.”_ _

__Nasir is trembling, rage boiling inside of him. He wants to rip the throat out of the man before him, is sure he could do it, but he’s frozen in place. Even Agron’s heat at his back doesn’t help calm his racing heart, only encourages it faster._ _

__“Fatin’s face when she happened upon me talking to those hunters. Such a pretty woman, such a waste.” Ashur continues, smirk growing as he chuckles. “When she realized what I had done, what I had told them about you. You appear as she did – hopeless and pathetic. Pretending that the ring around your finger will protect you from your fate.”_ _

__Flames explode from a chandelier above them, wax flinging to the floor. Someone cries out, but no one moves, watches entranced as licks of gold crisscross over Nasir’s arms, cloak falling back. Ashur lets out a laugh, amused by the display and reckless._ _

__“You were so young. Don’t you remember?” Ashur goads, leaning forward, “Running across that courtyard, screaming your name? She was almost there before the hunters got her, slit her throat so deep the blood got all over you. Marked you to be killed next. If your fucking _brothers_ had not come for you, this could have all been over long ago.”_ _

__“You killed her.” Nasir hisses, voice sharp and loud in the paralyzed room. “Both of them.”_ _

__“All of them.” Ashur confesses with a wild grin. “One after another. Did you never question where the others were?”_ _

__“You lie.” Nasir body thrums with heat, Agron’s fingers falling away from his arms, sliding the reigns away from him._ _

__“They died for their magical fucking sons and you will die for yours.” Ashur laughs, a choking aborted sound. “Full fucking circle.”_ _

__Many things happen at once. The chandeliers above suddenly snuff out, the flames lost as the candles around the room ripple. It casts half the room into shadow, a cavern plunged into twilight. Someone shouts something, Spartacus’ sword being drawn from the scabbard as Crixus barks orders for the guards. Duro howls again, a shallow noise that is followed by another reply, the sound lost. Agron’s hands come up to touch Nasir’s hip but is lost as a deep snarl begins to ricochet around the room, the two royals separating roughly._ _

__With his wolf eyes, Agron can see through the dark to the five figures rushing out from the shadows, met by another from the throne. Gleaming eyes and acidic magic, the soft curls of fabric and shimmering jewels. They circle and descend upon Ashur, fangs and claws out, a mix of scales and skin. A ripple of pleasure ghosts through Agron, a phantom swirl of heat as Nasir lunges, jumps in perfect form and the magic ricocheting through him lets him feel Nasir’s flames before they appear, a shimmer of red gold. Ashur only screams once, his arm extended above his head in a desperate plea._ _

__They writhe on top of him, a mass of moving bodies and carnage. The scent of blood and the cracking of bones echo through the throne room amidst the cries for candles to be lit, fear mingling with fury. Agron doesn’t turn his eyes way, watches bare skin become covered in red, watches the glory of hidden secrets finally come to light. And in all of it, the gleaming eyes and hisses, the throaty moans of death, Agron does not fear them. Instead, stands in awe of the Pythonissan brothers._ _

__When the candles finally stop, they burn high, casting the room sharply back into light. In the center of the room, the six Pythonissans crouch together, intertwined with arms and skin stuck together. It is not so removed from the way they once danced, moving around one another and between, lines blurring from one to the next. They survey the room with eyes not fully human, hands gripping and sliding over one another._ _

__Smeared from his mouth down over his chest, Nasir slowly stands up, a splatter of scales over his forehead, eyes unblinking and snake slitted. He isn’t alone though, Pietros joining him, pressing against his side. The others rise too, first Mika and Jem with red scales across their chests. Kalmar’s are green, his face pointed and sharp, cheekbones smeared in red. Lido is last, violet and blue, iridescent shimmers over his arms and chest. They are all awash in red, the stain on the floor huge and smeared._ _

__There is nothing of Ashur left._ _

__Agron’s heart pounds, blood roaring as he watches Nasir slowly moving forward, leaving sticky, red footprints in his wake. He’s torn between doing his duty and reaching for his husband, wanting to devour him, entranced by the feral way Nasir had gone for the kill. He wants to pull Nasir against him, to lap the blood from his mouth and have him upon the throne that they had already only a few weeks ago. But there are too many eyes and too much horror watching._ _

__Slowly, Nasir comes to stand beside him, regal and calm as he faces the looks of horror and awe from the crowd. Having to tear his eyes away, Agron too face the crowd, delighted when Nasir’s fingers slip back between his, drawing in a slow breath before issuing his decree._ _

__“Let us prepare for war.”_ _

__\- - -_ _

__High above the city, the night sky stretches out indigo splattered in thousands of stars. The moon is a fingernail, hanging low on the western sky, the sun having just winked out of existence. Upon the balcony, Nasir has the perfect view of the glistening city below and the sky above, the air clean and cold. In his arms, Malik stares up at his father, quiet and watching as Nasir speaks._ _

__"And that star, Satevis, the royal watcher of the west. He coaxes the sun to bed every night and calls the moon to rise." Nasir points to a bright star, angling Malik so he can see too. "He never sleeps so that we can."_ _

__"Antares," Agron's voice murmurs from the balcony doorway, "the star of peace."_ _

__Nasir glances over his shoulder with a small smile. He's stripped of the glamor of royalty, appearing every inch of twenty years old in a simple tunic and pants. It always makes Agron stop short when he sees him like this, reminded all over again that Nasir is still young, still so new to many Alptraum things. War and horror has hardened him, and yet he still finds it inside to be soft, to be gentle with his son, his family. To look innocent and beautiful even with the weight of terror upon him._ _

__Malik is wrapped in a blanket covered in silver stars and embroidered wolves. He makes a soft coo when he sees Agron, waving a hand in greeting. It’s still too new for him to be able to control his shift, eyes sparking just once. Agron will never be able to refuse them, drawing close to wrap his arm around Nasir._ _

__“Penelope and Aria,” Nasir extends his arm, points high in the north to twin stars shining both white and yellow, “Goddesses of patience and loyalty. Who were banished from one another for a thousand years and still their hearts beat true.”_ _

__Agron strokes a finger down Malik’s smooth cheek. “The eyes of Romlius – war god who hand picks the weapon each warrior will hold.”_ _

__“Is he a wolf as well?” Nasir teases gently, keeping his voice soft._ _

__“An eagle.” Agron squeezes Nasir’s neck in response._ _

__“How unique.”_ _

__Nasir turns back to the stars, shifting Malik again to see a the slim moon. It will not be long until it reaches fullness, when it hangs bright and looming, waiting to watch the battle unfold. It is a tension that seems to suffocate all of Galena._ _

__"Atticus. King slayer. Enemy of the gods." Agron points to another star on the western sky, a small circle around it._ _

__"Alcibiades." Nasir corrects, leaning his head back against Agron's shoulder. "Most beloved."_ _

__"Why did they not name it Nasir?" Agron nuzzles his nose against Nasir's temple, "For you are."_ _

__"Nasir means one who gives victory in Pythonissan." Nasir turns up to look at Agron, eyes dark. "Maybe it will bring us luck."_ _

__Agron makes a soft noise, shaking his head. It is hard to tell why the shift in mood, the calm melancholy that seems to swallow both of them. Is it due to things of the past or perhaps the pressure of the future? He watches as Malik's eyes get half mast, gumming at the side of his fist. He seems content to listen to his parents, unaware of the darkness of the conversation._ _

__"Do not think of that now."_ _

__"How can I not?" Nasir asks, brow furrowed. "How can I think of anything else?"_ _

__"I thought you went to bed. You were tired." Agron murmurs, dropping a soft kiss against the junction of Nasir's neck and shoulder. He curls closer, hugging Nasir tightly to his side to fight off the starting chill._ _

__"We couldn't sleep." Nasir pauses, glancing down to see that Malik seems to have finally drifted off. He makes a soft noise, easing more of the blanket up near the babe’s face._ _

__"Come on."_ _

__Agron eases his son out of Nasir's grasp, eases the babe up close to his chest, pressing a few soft kisses against the soft curls on his crown. Malik snuggles closer, tiny fist curled in Agron's tunic, seeking out warmth and scent. He doesn't release it until Agron lowers him into the crib in the nursery, stretching his arms and legs out the moment he's placed on his back. Nasir leans in too, kisses the soft skin between the corner of his eye and his temple, pulls the blanket up to his chin._ _

__"We love you, baby boy. More than anything."_ _

__Agron tangles his fingers to Nasir's, leading him out into the main parlor of the king's suite when it is clear that Malik is not going to wake again. The fire has been rekindled, the room warm and bright. It seems it doesn't match the mood through, Nasir moving over to pour two cups of wine. They did not get a chance to talk after the events of last night, the throne room having been scrubbed all day to try and remove the stain._ _

__"I have to tell you something."_ _

__Nasir doesn't look at Agron when he drinks from one, staring up at the large tapestry of a forest before him. His hair has grown longer, the tips of it teasing at the small of his back, gleaming black and shiny in the light. Agron wishes suddenly that they had time once again to spend learning one another, that tonight was not full of tension and fear, but instead Agron could spend it watching the beauty of Nasir’s face, the way his eyes shimmer between brown and green, his laughter so easy when they had first begun to fall in love. Apprehension prickles along Agron’s spine now though, the sharp sinking in his gut a forewarning of what’s to come. He does not know what to expect, already thinking the worst._ _

__“What is it?” Agron moves across the floor, eases his own cup of wine into his hand. From his vantage point, he can see the flush to Nasir’s face as he fights with the words, lips bitten raw._ _

__“I’ve been lying to you.” Nasir glances up, quickly looking away. “When Malik was born, I saw something. Not like Lido’s vision. But something, _something awful_.”_ _

__“What did you see?” Agron asks, unmoving and still. Even after all this time, he still does not truly understand Nasir’s magic nor does he understand the need to hide things from one another. He thought they were past this._ _

__“A great battle.” Nasir closes his eyes, words clipped and pained. He shudders in a breath. “A wolf and bat entangled in a sea of red. There was so much death and terror. Bodies piled along every wall, covering the ground, all of our friends – our family. And in the very center, we stood. Like the visions when I was pregnant with Malik. Us in the forest, with flames licking at the sky. We were with one another, hands clasped, only, we were dead.”_ _

__Nasir chokes on it, wrist coming up to wipe under his eyes. He shakes himself, tries to pull it together, but it hurts with every breath he takes. He knows what they must do, but it doesn’t make it easier._ _

__“Except for Malik. He was snatched him from our dead hands. Our son turned into darkness.”_ _

__Agron shivers with the thought, discarding his wine cup to the side to pull Nasir into his arms. He can feel Nasir shaking, holding him tightly. He can only imagine what horror that must have been, the mere thought of anyone having Malik but them being one of Agron’s own worst fears._ _

__“It was a dream, not a vision of the future. Too much magic and your own fears.” Agron soothes his fingers through Nasir’s hair. “I will not let that happen to him.”_ _

__“What if it was though? What if it was a warning?” Nasir turns abruptly, wiping at his face as he retreats, unable to look at Agron. “I had to do something, to make sure he was safe.”_ _

__Cold descends over Agron, a slow creeping that starts in the base of his stomach and moves higher, twisting in his chest. Dread bubbles at the back of his throat, watching Nasir’s thin shoulders heave, try to regain their composure. Agron trusts Nasir, he does, but this is not normal circumstances and the way Nasir refuses to face him does not sit well._ _

__“What did you do?”_ _

__Agron doesn’t say it cruelly, but instead on an exhale, body tense as if he’s preparing for an attack that he isn’t sure is going to come._ _

__“There are rivers that run below Galena. You told me that yourself. Waterways that heat the city.” Nasir turns slowly, his hands clasped tightly before him. “Massive caverns that could secret someone away without anyone else knowing.”_ _

__“There is no knowing where they lead though,” Agron shakes his head, “The maps are old and unreliable.”_ _

__“Not all of them. There is one, a small one that flows north.” Nasir twists his fingers. “I commissioned Castus to build a boat that could withstand its currents.”_ _

__“What?” Agron’s scowl deepens at the name, arms folded over his chest. “That fucking pirate? Why?”_ _

__“There was no one else who knows the craft,” Nasir replies, still staring intensely at where Agron’s leather strapped chest piece disappears into the fabric around his waist, “There was no one else who could do it.”_ _

__“When was this? I thought I made it clear to him that he was to keep his distance.” Agron growls deep in his chest. “Did he come to your rooms? Why did you let him in?”_ _

__“It is a simple boat. No sigils or symbols. Only ten people know of it, and the other nine were killed in the attack on the castle.” Nasir slowly raises his eyes, meets Agron’s gaze with his own. “It will hold only three grown adults. With enough supplies to follow the river out into the Northern Mountains of the Seers.”_ _

__Agron can feel the clues clicking into place, breath whooshing out of him. He had expected worse, a betrayal or an alliance forged without his knowing. There is no lengths that Nasir would not go to protect his family. But this, this simple act of planning ahead cannot be demonized._ _

__“I will admit, I had it built for selfish reasons.” Nasir steps forward, takes Agron’s hand and separates his clenched arms. “You kept speaking of that little farm up in the hills with goats and cows and chickens. Our children playing in the field nearby. The two of us curled up by a raging fire. Writing back to our friends, our family, and having them slowly join us – start again. I thought, if we went to battle, that this could be our way out.”_ _

__“Malik would make a good shepherd boy.” Agron scoffs through his laugh, staring down at their joined hands for a moment before slowly raising his gaze, next words slow and hesitant, “But my love, we are at war. And I am the king. It is my duty to go to battle with my people.”_ _

__“I know.” Nasir raises Agron’s hand to his mouth, kisses across his knuckles before pressing it against his cheek. “And my place is forever with you.”_ _

__“But-“ Agron’s brow furrows, but Nasir shakes his head. He cannot hear the rebuttal. It will shake his resolve._ _

__“Malik’s place is not.”_ _

__They stare at each other, watch the realization ghost over Agron’s face, expression open and then suddenly devastated. His brow falls as he watches Nasir’s bottom lip tremble, the threat of tears once more gathering in the corners of his eyes. The world seems to tilt, the words echoing over and over in the silence. Even the roar of the fire nearby falls into a distance hum._ _

__“You want to send him away.” Agron finally chokes after what feels like a millennium._ _

__“It is our only choice. If we fall and Caesar wins, Malik will be taken. This way, he can be hidden and safe – away from the prophecy and war.” Nasir stutters over the words, desperate and pleading. “There is no other way!”_ _

__“You do not have to fight this battle.” Agron shakes his head, trying to pull back but Nasir clings his fingers deeply between Agron’s. “Malik needs his father. You should go with him. Protect the baby that grows inside of you now.”_ _

__“I will not leave you.” Nasir shakes his head vehemently, eyes burning. “Caesar will assume I will run with him, that you will send me away with him, and they’ll be looking for me. If I do not stand with you upon that battlefield, Malik stands no chance.”_ _

__“There are other ways. There must be another way.” Agron tries to reason, but they both know that it’s not true. Caesar is too smart to think that Agron wouldn’t send them away. If he sees Nasir, then they have the element of surprise._ _

__“Our lives for his. We swore to put him first.” A tear rolls down Nasir’s cheek, getting close in the stray curl of his hair. “We cannot fail him.”_ _

__Agron pulls Nasir to him, wraps his arms around Nasir and squeezes until it feels as if they will melt into one another. As if the world is slowly melting around them and they too will become nothing but a blur for colors. Nasir has hurt before in his life, has suffered, has thought that this terror could not get any worse. It all falls away in comparison to the thought that they will have to give their son away. That there will be a night when Nasir will not hold Malik close, that Agron will not sing him to sleep._ _

__Nasir shudders in a sob, pressing his face into the center of Agron’s chest to try and muffle it. He doesn’t want to wake Malik, nor any of the servants, but the burning in his chest doesn’t seem to be able to stop. Agron holds him tightly, hides his own face in Nasir’s long hair and shudders. Agron wants to be strong, to be the rock that he so often is, but the stinging behind his eyes won’t seem to let him, pulling back to press a gentle kiss to Nasir’s mouth._ _

__“My brave, wild little dog.” Agron reaches up to cup Nasir’s cheek, “How fierce you’ve become. A wolf with scales.”_ _

__“I am.” Nasir’s fingers brush over the gold wolf charm nestled at Agron’s throat, smiling bitterly, “And when we meet Caesar on the battlefield, I want to be the one to rip out his throat.”_ _

__“Consider it a late anniversary present,” Agron kisses Nasir again, still holding him closely. “And we will split the sky in celebration.”_ _

__“Do you swear?” Nasir asks, tilting his head up slowly. It is clear what he wants, what he begs for. “Can you?”_ _

__“I swear _we_ will celebrate. Our family, safe once more.” _ _

__Agron pulls him close again, squeezing him hard and praying that this is true._ _

__\- - -_ _

__"Is all of this really necessary?" Pietros mutters, legs crossed at the knee, a large cup of wine in his hand. He's below Agron and Nasir on a row of benches, the Pythonissan brothers placed from oldest to young. It’s more ornate version of the game bleachers, chairs carved in thick wood. Before them, the long road leading into the castle courtyard is layered with peasants, all of them watching and cheering as the armies and diplomats of the Alptraum allies arrive. Their dirty faces every few moments will turn to look up at the royal dais, cheering for their kings as well._ _

__"Not one for festivities, dear? When did this begin?" Auctus rolls his head to look over at him from his place beside Duro. “I remember you dancing to welcome the sun.”_ _

__"This isn't a party." Pietros purses his lips. "We've been sitting out here for over an hour watching armies walk into the city. We should be doing something more useful."_ _

__"I thought you liked watching hundreds of soldiers strut by and bow to you." Auctus leans forward to see past Duro with a wink, "Or should I go ask Helio?"_ _

__He grins when Pietros reaches behind Mika to hide a rude gesture with his hand. The prince has kept his distance, wisely avoiding the royal entourage whenever possible. Still, Duro, Auctus, and Barca make a point of keeping Pietros in the middle when they proceed down a hall or sit for a large banquet meal._ _

__"Behave.” Nasir murmurs faintly, leaning heavily back in his chair. Malik is sitting on Agron’s lap, a small cloth sword clutched in his hand, waving it and calling out to the crowd before him. Both parents have refused to let him out of their sight, waving off any of the help they usually receive. Instead, Malik has accompanied the couple to every meeting or court date._ _

__Another wave of soldiers pass by, their fuchsia banners waving rapidly in the breeze. They’re elves from the looks of them, birch skin and long vines wrapped around their crowns. It is unclear who their king or prince is that leads them, but Agron waves his hand politely anyway, greets them in the lazy way of royalty too distracted to care. He’s thankful for all of them, but much like Pietros, the triviality of it all grinds on him._ _

__“Would you stop shaking your leg?” Jem cuts sharply, hand curling over Kalmar’s knee. “What is wrong with you today? You’ve been fluttering around all morning.”_ _

__“I’m fine.” Kalmar snaps, worrying a thumbnail between his teeth. “Keep mind on your own task!”_ _

__Gracefully pulling back from whispering with Ariadne, Lido grins his charming smile, reaching over to gently touch a strand of Kalmar’s hair. It’s condescending and sweet, a mix of brotherly teasing and concern._ _

__“They’re not too far off now. Are you going to be able to control yourself?”_ _

__“Stop!” Kalmar hisses, yanking away from his brother. He rips his fingernail short, blood bubbling up along the bed. “It’s not that. I’m only eager to assess the damage that has occurred in my absence.”_ _

__“It is possible for your heart to have grown a little softer, brother.” Mika grins slow, mirrored in Jem’s own expression. “You aren’t entirely made of ice.”_ _

__“Darach is my charge – my responsibility. I only wish to protect the royal line and ensure safety and prosperity to the high prince.” Kalmar rattles off, eyes eagerly tracking over the crowd. “Nothing else.”_ _

__“That thirst for royalty seems to run in our family,” Jem arches his neck back to catch Nasir’s eye with a rueful smile. “Wouldn’t you say little brother? Or is this a one off?”_ _

__“Technically,” Nasir shimmers as he turns his head, fingers caught in Malik’s grip, “we are royalty too.”_ _

__“If it’s not what we think,” Mika points to where Tove lingers on a chair to the far left, “Why not fuck him? I mean, he’s willing and fair looking. Besides, he’s royalty too, right?”_ _

__“Pietros already has.” Duro offers helpfully, flinching when Pietros’ eyes widen in horror, curling a thorned vine around Duro’s bare wrist._ _

__“Shut up!”_ _

__“If he touches you, I will slit his throat.” Nasir looks ever regal as he glances down again, poised with a straight back and a hand fluttering over the hilt of Agron’s sword._ _

__“Not that one. I have a dagger in my boot.” Agron adds, bouncing Malik a little when he gets restless. “Tove is slow with small weapons.”_ _

__“Fuck,” Kalmar rolls his eyes, angry red sparks slipping from his fingertips. “Prince Darach and I have been bound by duty since I was first taken. It is my responsibility to make sure he’s safe and taken care of. His father has fallen into a dark sleep and Darach stands as king until he wakes. He needs me to be there to aid him.”_ _

__“And yet,” Lido smirks, motioning his hand as if showcasing an example. “Love finds us all.”_ _

__“Love kills us all.” Nasir mutters darkly, avoiding when Agron turns his head, both of them seeming to communicate some way before Agron’s hand cups the back of Nasir’s neck._ _

__“Yes, and yet.” Pietros echoes softly, turning his attention back to the long procession of soldiers now pouring into the courtyard._ _

__They’re dressed in thick armor made from leather and leaf pulp, carved to show intricate symbols of war, fighting, and energy. On the elves’ helmets a circlet of carvings have been inscribed, each of them wearing a thick necklace of fresh flowers, long onyx hair braided in plats. From the center of the entourage, six finely dressed boys emerge grasping basins of fresh rose water. They spin in circles with it, never spilling but showering glitter._ _

__Marching in behind, a group of six finely dressed generals flank a center prince. He's distinct with his sash of emerald, sword long and hooked on the end. There is a pattern of gold glitter painted around his eyes, war paint that reflects eerie in his yellow cat eyes. Grasped in his hands, a huge bouquet of daffodils rest thick in his arms._ _

__"Oh no." Kalmar's face flushes, hands tightening on the arms of his chair._ _

__"Are those for me?" Nasir groans, rising when Agron does, pulling Malik onto his hip._ _

__"They're for me." Kalmar almost whines in his groan, standing as well when Darach reaches the bottom of the pedestal._ _

__"King Agron and King Nasir of Alptra, Asmodeus pledges its loyalty to you." Darach's slitted eyes shimmer, tan skin smooth and young. His long black hair is a mess of sharp spikes, tall and lean._ _

__"Alptra is thankful for your allegiance." Agron bows his head in reply, carefully controlled._ _

__"Welcome to Galena Prince Darach of Asmodeus." Nasir hooks one foot behind the other and lowers himself, Malik staring at the crowd with large, unblinking eyes._ _

__"Thank you," Darach smiles wide, allowing his gaze to slide to Kalmar. A shiver seems to run down him, the flowers decorating the dais suddenly bursting into bloom. "Any kin of our Kalmar's is of our own as well."_ _

__"Your majesty." Kalmar doesn't stammer but he walks unnecessarily slow to come and bow before his prince._ _

__Darach seems to be uncomfortable with the move, instead thrusting the flowers into Kalmar's chest. He realizes how abrupt it is though, dazzling a grin at Kalmar and leaning in to ghost a kiss across his cheek._ _

__"It is good to see you," Darach murmurs sincerely, close enough he can see the soft curl against Kalmar's temple._ _

__"You as well." Kalmar seems unable to comprehend what to do, grasping the bouquet with both arms._ _

__"Perhaps you would be so kind, Kalmar," Agron grins sharp and smart, "to show the prince and his generals to their rooms?"_ _

__"I-" Kalmar's eyes widen for only a moment, staring up at Agron almost in horror before schooling it back down. "Of course. Majesty. Please follow me."_ _

__The group watches as the army representatives file out, perfectly in time with their steps. Another will come soon, a lull in the few hours or even days when another will come and pledge themselves to the cause. It does nothing to reassure those who stand there, already sensing the darkness that seems to be growing on the horizon._ _

__Cradling Malik against his chest, Nasir turns slowly to look up at Agron. The sunset is reflecting in his eyes, making them flash supernaturally. He doesn’t need to say the words, the weight of what is looming standing like a shadow over both of them. Agron reaches out, curls a hand around the back of Nair’s neck again and pulls him into a kiss. It’s gentle and tinged bitter, the pain radiating off both of them._ _

__“Auctus, Barca.” Agron chokes out, barely being able to turn his eyes from Nasir’s face, “When moon is highest.”_ _

__He doesn’t have to look at them to know they understand. Agron and Nasir had told them, had whispered while clutching Malik between them, eyes wet and pleading. They hadn’t disagreed, had been solemn and heartsick, realizing the weight of the request._ _

__

__\- - -_ _

__

__Pietros cannot tell one hallway from the next, clinging tightly to Barca's hand as he leads them further into the underbelly of the castle. The candle clutched in his hand has stopped flickering, the air growing stagnant and frigid as they descend. It feels as if they’re wading through a forgotten place, the dust undisturbed until now. The laughter and joking that had prattled between Duro and Auctus has withered, barely a murmur or sigh passing now. It seems everything has fallen away. Around then, moisture seems to trickle from every crevice, the stone walls damp and the floor covered in small puddles._ _

__"Watch the arch," Barca murmurs back, Pietros instinctively ducking._ _

__They pass under an opening, the walls jutting out sharply into a caricature of structure. It seems a carved doorway once stood here, the top morphed from the sharp angles of a wolf into a jagged mess of triangles and sharp corners. All that is left to be recognizable are the teeth._ _

__"What are we doing down here? If you wanted to surprise us, I'd rather have just fucked in the throne room or something." Duro mutters, grimacing when his cloak brushes up against the wall, the moisture spreading across the fur._ _

__"We are almost there," Auctus reassures, reaching over to gently cup Duro's cheek. He's been oddly affectionate on their trek deep into the underbelly of the castle, constantly reaching to touch Duro's curls or grace his fingers over Pietros' hip._ _

__They keep going down a long stretch of sloping pathways that lead to more darkness, only the candles clutched in Barca's and Auctus' hands giving light. Pietros clings to Barca's side and holds Duro's hand in his other, feeling the trembling that starts in the prince as they move further. It takes them nearly a half hour to finally level out, the rushing sound of water over stones echoing along the long hall. Finally, they break from the close walls into a large cavern._ _

__Tall candelabras line one wall, their light dim but flickering, making the men recoil for a moment to adjust. Cutting through the large room, a glowing river ripples slowly, lapping at the stained marble steps. It is only ten feet across but looks deep, the current lazily crawling from a crack in one wall to the large opening on the other. Nestled in its water and tied down to an iron ring on the floor, a boat bobs up and down, its mast empty except for the role of a sail._ _

__Standing before the candles, Agron and Nasir strike a long and ominous shadow over the floor. They're wearing the same cloaks, a deep blue with gray wolf fur collars, the splatter of stars around the hem a sigil of their status, heads adorned in crowns. Clutched in Nasir's arms, Malik lays curled in his own blanket, Agron's hand resting on his stomach. It’s picturesque, an image that could be painted, the long frowns on both their faces appear regal and poised. They seem to be whispering to one another, lost in whatever they were saying, but startle when the men enter the room._ _

__Pietros wants to make a joke, a quip about not realizing they were going to meet like this, but it dies on his tongue when he sees the tears in Nasir's eyes. He tries to piece it together, tries to understand what this new game is, what has overtaken them. He glances at the boat, heavy with bags of food and supplies. It is modest, small even, and unrecognizable. Pietros hadn't noticed Castus lingering on the bow, wrapped in thick fabric of teal and gold._ _

__"What is all this?" Duro pulls away from Auctus, swaggering forward light and easy, relaxed now that he sees his brother._ _

__The room falls into silence, a heavy presence pressing down on them as Agron and Nasir don't speak, only watch them. Nasir's bottom lip is trembling but he makes no move to explain, seeming to not be able to as Agron's hand flexes on Malik's small chest._ _

__"They're leaving us." Pietros whispers, the realization slamming into him, robbing the air from his lungs. It chokes him completely when with a sob, Nasir shakes his head._ _

__"We cannot leave." Agron's voice is gravel, brow down and furrowed as if the words need to be ripped from him. "He cannot stay."_ _

__"I don't understand." Duro looks back at his fiancés, arms spread as if the understanding will overtake him. He turns back sharply to Agron, taking a half a step forward. "What is this? What do you mean?"_ _

__"There is no one else." Nasir clutches his son to his chest, imploring and wide eyed. "No one else we can trust with our son. It must be you two."_ _

__“Speak fucking plainly,” Duro snaps, fear curling hot in his chest. “Agron. What is going on?”_ _

__"Send us?" Pietros feels Barca's hands tighten and then slip away, Auctus and him drawing together. "You want to send us away? No! I won't go!"_ _

__“It has to be Duro and you. There is no one else.” Agron repeats the words, his arm around Nasir tightening._ _

__"Fuck this! I am a better asset to you here! I can fight! I will not leave your side." Duro shouts, his voice raising in the tall cavern. "Fuck this. You can’t do this to me."_ _

__"You are needed elsewhere." Agron shakes his head, eyes flashing. "There is no other choice."_ _

__"You send me away like a wounded child? Like a sniffling babe?" Duro's fists tighten at his side, eyes livid. "I will not be cast aside! I am a high Alptra prince! A warrior! I am of wolf blood!"_ _

__"You fucking fool!" Agron shouts back, the words clipped and broken. "Do you think I ask you to wound your fucking pride? Very thought robs me of fucking air! I do this to protect you both; not for punishment."_ _

__"Nasir, think of what you ask," Pietros steps forward to stand beside Duro, hands clasped before him, "You are afraid but there are other ways, other paths. Lido and Kalmar and the twins are here. We are strong now."_ _

__“I will hear no more of this! Fuck you both.” Duro turns sharply, moving to head back towards the hall, Pietros taking half a step to follow him._ _

__"Please."_ _

__Nasir pulls away from Agron, pressing Malik into his arms and rushes forward before collapsing on his knees. The others in the room making a noise of distress, Auctus and Barca blocking the door as Duro turns, shocked at the display as Nasir bows at Pietros' feet. It is not a place fitting of his status and Agron makes a pained noise in the back of his throat when with trembling hands, Nasir presses his palms down to the floor as well._ _

__"I am begging you." Nasir's tears fall to the wet ground, voice breaking. "Please brother, please."_ _

__“Nasir,” Pietros chokes, glancing up to where Agron is grimacing and then back down._ _

__“Please.” Nasir lets out a sob, nails scratching on the wet stone. “There is no other way.”_ _

__Pietros drops to his knees as well, reaching for Nasir. He cups his cheeks, guides his head up so he can look into Nasir's streaming eyes. It is as if a memory renewed, Nasir's face younger and soft, crying as they stood beside their caravan. The summer wind was in Nasir's hair and Fatin's death was still fresh._ _

__"I would gladly give my life for his," Nasir shudders in Pythonissan, "I would give anything to ensure his safety."_ _

__"He will know you." Pietros promises, leaning forward to press his forehead to Nasir's, their tears mingling. He knows he will not deny this request, even if it feels as if his heart is being torn in half. "Every day he will speak your names."_ _

__"Be better than our fathers," Nasir wraps his arms around Pietros, hugs him and presses his lips chastely to his brother's. They kiss for only a moment, just a brief peck before Duro pulls back, letting out a broken whimper._ _

__“Will I ever see you again?”_ _

__“I don’t know.” Nasir drags his fist under his eye. “I hope so.”_ _

__It feels as if every piece of them is breaking when they withdraw, Nasir back to wrap himself around his husband and son and Pietros to say goodbye. Whatever joy had once followed the foursome down into the cavern is gone, swept away with the resting of the river and the stress of this request._ _

__"I do not want to go." Duro says as Auctus draws him close, kisses him slow and gentle, hands in Duro's curls. "Why can't you come with us?"_ _

__"Our place is with our men, our guard." Barca traces his thumb down Duro's cheek, hugging Pietros to his side, "We will see you again."_ _

__"You cannot know that," Pietros wiggles between Auctus and Barca, trying to press up against both of them as much as possible._ _

__"If the gods will it, then we will." Auctus reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Pietros' mouth, "We each have our role to play in this war. Yours is just as important as ours."_ _

__"It's not." Duro mutters darkly, pulling back from kissing Barca._ _

__"Look at them," Auctus murmurs, holding them tightly as he gazes across the cavern where Agron and Nasir are once again whispering to one another. "I cannot imagine their agony."_ _

__Agron wraps his arms tighter around Nasir's, cradling Malik between them. The babe has been oddly quiet, mouthing at the corner of his blanket and staring up at his parents. He makes a distressed noise every time Nasir shudders through a breath, tears still rolling down his face._ _

__"Do you think he will remember us?" Nasir asks, brushing a finger along Malik's smooth cheek. "Do you think he knows we are doing this for him?"_ _

__"He knows." Agron murmurs, leaning down to kiss Malik's temple. "How can he not?"_ _

__"I never thought my heart would break this way." Nasir raises his fingers to the back of his neck, undoing a quick clasp before wrapping the chain around Malik's neck. The wolf charm hands mid-chest, the small gold snout and ruby eyes pointed towards the ceiling. "Please never doubt we love you, Malik. More than anything in this world."_ _

__"Be strong and wise and merciful." Agron leans in, presses another kiss to Malik's face. "Do not forget you were crafted from love."_ _

__Malik reaches his hands up, touches his tiny fists to Agron's and Nasir's cheeks. He doesn't understand, whimpering half human and then into wolf. He hiccups on a cry, tears filling his eyes when Nasir flinches._ _

__"We will see him again soon." It takes all of Agron's strength to pull back. "Do it."_ _

__Nasir's hand shakes roughly as he gently presses his fingertips across Malik's forehead. At once, the babe calms, eyes drooping as he falls asleep. There is no room for extra guards, no Apep to protect him, and so Nasir whispers a prayer into Malik’s ear and tries to gain some strength. Malik does not stir when Agron and Nasir walk to the edge of the stone, stopping before Pietros and Duro._ _

__“I expect a lengthy story of this battle when we return.” Duro’s words are muffled as Agron drags him close, brushes their foreheads together as they grasp onto one another. “No detail forgotten.”_ _

__“We will spend long nights in front of the fire going over it, I’m sure.” Agron smiles, the corners of his eyes wet._ _

__They hand over Malik together, pressing the babe into Pietros’ waiting arms. Malik does not stir, kept deep in dreams by the magic, and yet his brow wrinkles only for a moment. With their arms free, Agron and Nasir cling to one another, holding tight and watching as both Pietros and Duro lower themselves into the boat. Castus mutters a few things to Duro, pressing a scroll into his chest before swinging out, beginning to untie the knot holding the vessel in place._ _

__“May Sator bless you.” Nasir raises his hand, a green spark lingering in the air in farewell._ _

__“May the moon shine her light and guide you.” Agron adds in, his arm bulging with taking Nasir’s full weight, his legs shaking to roughly to stand on his own._ _

__“We love you.” Duro and Pietros turn to the other two men, Auctus and Barca patting a closed fist too their shoulder._ _

__“We will see you soon.”_ _

__They stand and watch as the boat catches the current, the smooth wood carrying them quickly towards the opening. They situate themselves on the bow, Malik still clutched in Pietros’ arms as they grow smaller and smaller. Finally, they disappear entirely, surrounded by darkness and the rush of water._ _

__\- - -_ _

__

__Time has no sympathy for the broken hearted and continues. Galena readies itself for war, the large moat around the castle being filled with water, the outside walls adorned with spikes, shelters reinforced with barbs and steel. The city empties of peasants as much as it can, some traveling over the mountains to stay as refugees in the grasslands of Taurant. There is an air of unease permeating in every corner of the large city._ _

__Agron is never alone now, Spartacus or Crixus always on either side of him, planning battle strategies and securing the city. They huddle in the council room, the red light reflecting over maps and laid plans, cups of wine left to warm and spoil as the men fight over how to proceed. He wears his mantle with a grimace, crown heavy as Agron attempts to predict what Caesar's plan will be. Even with the support of allies and years of experience, there is no knowing what this battle will be like._ _

__He sees Nasir in passing, caught glimpses in the hall or quick meals taken standing beside a table, giving reports. Even their sleep is interrupted, abruptly woken whenever a new report or a new sighting comes in. Agron only manages to spend half an hour with Nasir to present him with his armor, handmade and carefully crafted to fit as if a second skin. It is inscribed in both Alptraum and Pythonissan, the image of protection spells, wolves, and snakes. Nasir had taken it with a solemn bow of his head and a fierce kiss, eyes still wild._ _

__It is not until the week of the full moon that movement begins in the mountains. Lights begin to dance around tall peaks in the east, growing and descending as the night wears on. Caesar advances like a swarm, the black and red banners of the Roma fly high and bright, even during the day. They are a sickly omen of what is to come, of what has already started._ _

__The Alptraum guards try to track their movements, sending reports to Agron as much as they can, but the vampires are quick and are masters of deceit. They settle on the ridges overlooking Galena like a black cloud, fabric heavy to block out the sun during the day._ _

__There is no time left. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, nearly to bursting, and with it comes the end._ _

__\- - -_ _

__Wearily, Agron pushes the door to the king's chambers shut, at once grateful for the silence. The fire is dim in the heart, flickering gold an orange across the heavy tapestries, the smooth marble floor, the plush furniture. This place is one of comfort, is supposed to be an oasis from the pressures of court, but instead the foreboding looms like a dark cloth over all. No servants linger along the walls or guards stand at attention. Down the hall, Malik's nursery is dark and quiet, a shade of its former happiness. All that remains now is Nasir's dark shadow cutting into the large picture window, his fingers on the glass._ _

__Earlier, when the nearly full moon had hung heavy and thick in the sky, the Pythonissan brothers had gathered in the gardens below to pray and pay tribute to their gods. They had dressed in heavy dancing costumes, thick waisted pants with open legs and sides, a collection of necklaces and headdresses, their bare feet adorned in anklets that jingled when they walked like soft bells. The snow has melted some, leaving the ground soft and muddy, but Nasir does not appear to have even touched it. He stands immaculate against the dark window, having stripped his necklaces off but not his crown._ _

__“The full moon is tomorrow.” Nasir says as way of greeting, eyes not leaving his view. He tracks over the vampire camp, mouth pulled down. It is too far away to see much movement, but he knows they’re getting closer – a breath before the onslaught._ _

__“It is not tonight though.”_ _

__Agron steps around the furniture, drawing up behind Nasir and gently wrapping his arms around his husband's waist. It is still too early to feel that much change in him, though his stomach has started to curve just slight, another promise of life._ _

__"They are getting closer." Nasir murmurs, pressing back into Agron's chest, "I could hear drums on the wind, not ours but something else. There are a lot of them."_ _

__"Do not be afraid." Agron murmurs, gently presses his lips to Nasir's bare shoulder._ _

__"I'm not afraid."_ _

__Agron catches Nasir's eyes flashing in the glass, mouth pulled down in a tight line._ _

__"I'm angry."_ _

__Nasir turns then, loops his arms around Agron and pulls him close. He cannot seem to stop the trembling coursing through him, knees weak from the rage clouding up his mind. He wants to tear Caesar apart with his bare hands, to make him suffer over and over for the pain he's caused their family. His death will never be enough. It could happen a hundred times and Nasir would still rage against him._ _

__“What sort of man does this?” Nasir asks, biting the words into the space between his lips and Agron’s ear. “Forsakes it all for his own selfish lust? His own need? Thousands will die tomorrow and for what? So he can sate his need of us? Why?”_ _

__“There is no reasoning behind it,” Agron shakes his head, his own voice harsh and biting. He has found no more reason than Nasir in this war. It seems so futile from Caesar’s stand point._ _

__“I hate him.” Nasir tucks his face into Agron’s neck, fingers digging into his back. “For what he has done to you and for what he wants to.”_ _

__“Save your rage for the battlefield, my love. You will meet him there.” Agron runs his fingers soothingly through Nasir’s long hair, nuzzling against him. It already feels as if time is slipping from them. “We only have a few hours left before we are required.”_ _

__Nasir draws back, hands sliding up over Agron’s neck to cup his cheeks, staring up at him. He cannot image what this life would be like without Agron beside him, without the love and strength that comes from being his husband. Even now, when the future seems dark and grim, Agron stands as if a beacon, strong and stubborn against the storm._ _

__“Our last night together. It seems impossible. How can a heart so full of love feel like it’s breaking?”_ _

__Nasir rises on his toes, gently gripping Agron's chin and guiding him down into a soft kiss. It does not stay so for long, nuzzling against one another as Agron presses Nasir back into the cool glass. All of Galena stretches before them, a war on the brink at their feet, and yet Agron closes his eyes to it. He only wants to see the man before him, to feel the soft gasps and moans echoed in his own mouth. Nasir bites at his mouth, falling open when Agron presses rough and needy, hands curling along Nasir's neck and then into his hair._ _

__"How would you spend our last night, my love?" Agron pants, pulling back with his teeth in Nasir's bottom lip. Gasping, Nasir's eyes shine up at Agron, hands planted in his chest as hen suddenly pushes Agron back._ _

__"As we began."_ _

__Brushing the window open, Nasir lets the sound of the battle drums filter into the room, their beat steady and harsh in the once silent room._ _

__"Let me dance for you."_ _

__Agron slowly sinks into a nearby chair, the back high and hugging just as if it were the throne. His heart throbs in his chest, blood seeming to thrum at the sight before him. This is Nasir unbound, of his own choosing, calling magic and heat into every movement as he pushes himself off the window. He expertly winds his hips in a short figure eight, hands sliding up to secure his crown, and Agron's whole nervous system seems to come alive._ _

__Minding the furniture, Nasir turns in a circle, back bowing as his arms move slowly above him. There is a control here, a tightening and releasing of muscles as Nasir commands his body to listen, tempting and sweet. Dark scales shimmer down his bare back, his tattoo glowing - a constant reminder of his status. He is powerful and lovely - the image of a beautiful flower with deadly thrones._ _

__His movements quicken with the beat from outside, body shaking and rolling against itself. Nasir pulls a complicated move with four steps and a spin, his back arching sharply, and a dancing line of flames pours down his spine. It disappears but leaves the room warm, the fire in the hearth suddenly bursting to life._ _

__Watching enraptured, Agron cannot seem to blink for fear of missing it. This dance is not for a crowd, not for hungry men to offer coin. Nasir dances for him and him alone, fabric shifting over skin, revealing in a peeking tease. Nasir hooks his fingers in the hem of his waistband, inches the fabric lower and flashes a slow grin at Agron, eyes lingering where Agron's tented against his subligaria._ _

__Inching across the floor, Nasir spins close and then away, moving his hips slowly from side to side as his fingers play with the ribbon ties on the sides of his pants. It is seductive and enthralling, Agron's hand sliding to between his own legs, cupping where he is already hot and full, cock throbbing a little at the pressure. It is not enough, but watching Nasir's skin break out in goosebumps is worth it._ _

__Turning, Nasir slides back until his shoulders press to Agron's chest, body still grinding on the air just above his waist. It flexes his stomach tightly, rolling his hips back and forth, a hint of what Nasir is obviously plying for. Agron obliges slowly, hands coming up to gently cup Nasir's neck, sliding down onto his chest. He pinches one of Nasir's nipples, hears the hiss and feels when Nasir turns his head into Agron's neck._ _

__Continuing down, Agron cups over Nasir's slowly growing waist, down onto the sharp cut of his hips and navel ring. The skin is soft and thin here, stretched over sharp bones, and Agron is delicate as he eases down the last few inches, grabbing the ribbon on either side of Nasir's hips. His pants fall open in a heap of crimson fabric, body left bare except for the thin gold chain around his waist and his crown._ _

__Nasir's mouth falls open against Agron's throat, moaning deep when Agron wraps his hand around Nasir's cock, stroking it slowly as he guides him back, pushing Nasir's ass against his own lap. Agron knows the way of Nasir's body, has tasted every inch, has explored every crevice. He can feel the way Nasir's legs spread around him, hole slick and warm when Agron's fingers press to it._ _

__"Once more," Nasir pants by way of explaining, body on full display as he presses against Agron's chest, "I could not bear it if you were not inside of me once more."_ _

__It is easy to undo the ties around Agron's waist, yanking the fabric away and pressing the thick head of his cock to Nasir's hole. It is odd not looking directly into Nasir's face, but this way is just as good, watching the way his nipples harden, cock a leaking mess as Nasir grinds against Agron - desperate and greedy. He cries out and draws blood on Agron's thighs when Agron slides home, legs spread over Agron's own._ _

__The world seems to tilt, suspended as Nasir rocks back against Agron and Agron moves up, gripping a hand to the center of Nasir's chest. He isn't far enough to be leaking yet, though his chest looks fuller, nipples sore. Agron can smell the scent of mate and breeded all over him, teeth implanted in his neck. He has grown completely addicted to it, secretly wanting to always keep Nasir like this - full of his seed and sated, content to lay around in nothing and allow Agron to give him pleasure over and over again._ _

__"I want him to smell me all over you tomorrow." Nasir pants, eyes leaking as he gasps up at the ceiling, body shaking. "To know that you are mine."_ _

__"He will know." Agron replies, hands bruising on Nasir's hips as he thrusts into him, body lifting from the chair. "He will fucking know."_ _

__"Come with me." Nasir dissolves against him, body pressed as close as they can when Nasir's toes curl._ _

__It is unexpected, too quick and heated, a punch directly into Nasir's chest and then Agron's. Nasir spills all over his stomach and chest, back bowed as he feels Agron's filling him. It burns hot and thick, a choked off cry in Nasir's mouth as he tightens down onto Agron, begging to not have any leak out. They collapse in a heap upon the chair, arms wrapped around one another, mouths meshing. Somewhere in the middle, Agron manages to turn Nasir around, staying within him. He lets Nasir rest against his shoulder, both of them slowly coming down._ _

__With wobbly legs and careless hands, the couple manages to fall into bed sometime later, bodies pressed tight. Agron knows he will not sleep tonight, too wired and anxious about the fight tomorrow, but Nasir's eyes are heavy, breathing slow as Agron curls around him, Nasir cocooned in Agron's large arms._ _

__"I think I loved you the minute I saw you," Agron murmurs, tracing careful shapes on Nasir's stomach. "I just knew."_ _

__"There will never be another." Nasir whispers back, words soft and quiet in the once again silent room. "My heart has no more room."_ _

__"You would go on after though, if I fell," Agron's brow furrows, gently guiding Nasir onto his back. His husband stares up at him with dark eyes, brow furrowed._ _

__"How could you ask me that?"_ _

__"If I die tomorrow," Agron repeats, catching Nasir's wrist when his hand tries to cover Agron's mouth, "you will go on and raise our son and find love and comfort with someone else."_ _

__"No." Nasir answers stubbornly. "I won't."_ _

__"Nasir-" Agron begins only for Nasir's palm to suddenly press against his lips._ _

__"No. I won't." Nasir shakes his head. "If you fall tomorrow, the gods had better prepare a place for two at their feast. I will not leave your side. Not in this life or the next."_ _

__Agron searches Nasir's face, wants to say words that will reprimand him for his foolishness. That will talk sense into him. But Agron cannot when he feels the same. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to Nasir's mouth, wrapping his arms more securely around the smaller man._ _

__"In this life or the next." Agron promises._ _

__

__\- - -_ _

__The full moon hangs heavy and bright in the night sky, a beacon to illuminate the sparkling white and silver stones of Galena. The castle looms proud and regal, banners flowing blue, red, and gold. It seems almost peaceful, a quiet oasis in the midst of the snowing mountain peaks. Yet, it is not so. A hundred archers line the turrets and towers of the city wall, the best two dozen stationed above the moat itself. Soldiers line the front walk way, hidden behind the wood door and poised, ready to fight._ _

__Across the murky waters, a horde of blackness stamps at the ground, Caesar's army in perfect formation. Their colors of red mixing to look like a pool of spilled blood, the army spans the width of the cavern, shields up and swords drawn. Their leader has not yet made himself present, the rippling of voices within the Alptraum city cursing in scorn as they approach. Atop the high wall, Agron stands with the rest of his council, surrounded by soldiers and machineries staring in loyal awe at their king._ _

__"They look to you, Agron." Spartacus is murmuring in his ear, one hand gently clasped on Agron's shoulder. "Not to Gerulf. Not to me. To you."_ _

__Glancing around, Agron takes in the faces of his friends, his family. Spartacus stands with Mira, pregnant and still holding a bow. Naevia and Crixus wear matching scowls, backs straight and proud. Auctus and Barca wear the laurels and armor of their station, their men in formation behind. Lido, Mika, and Jem make one line, armored and armed, the red war paint of Alptra decorating their faces. Kalmar stands with his faerie prince in the north quarter of the town, calling on the forest spirits to aid them in their battle. To his direct right, Nasir leans on his spear, mouth in a firm line but eyes soft when they gleam up at Agron. They are all eager to serve him, to protect and die for their friendship and love. Agron's heart could almost burst from the surge of affection his feels for them._ _

__Beyond the group, thousands stare in rapture at the king, willing and loyal. They will fight until they cannot and then try to fight more. It is the Alptra way._ _

___"We wait for your command, my king."_ Nasir's eyes track to him, head tipped back and proud. He looks changed in his armor, fierce and ruthless, a snarl just curling at the corner of his mouth. _ _

__Taking a deep breath, Agron turns to address the troops before him._ _

__"My good and noble people. Wars have been fought for many reasons by Alptraum men and women. We have gone for land, for money, for justice. All worthy and noble reasons. I ask you now, is the livelihood of our kind also a just cause?"_ _

__Agron's voice booms in the large courtyard, a beacon over the rest_ _

__"If Caesar wins, he will rip the very sun from the sky and plunge us into a world of darkness. No one will be safe. No one will escape his wrath."_ _

__Agron draws his sword, brandishing it towards the crowd._ _

__"I ask you to fight with me now for the protection of our home. For our husbands and wives, for our children, for our very kind. Today, you do not fight for your king or his glory. I fight for you, for us. Today, we fight together. Let us rain down a fury that this world has never seen!"_ _

__The roar of the crowd is deafening, swords, spears, axes, and bows lifted towards the sky in excitement. A steady beat follows, men and women alike pounding their fists to their chest in steady recognition of their kings. They swear their loyalty, their very last breath to this cause._ _

__Agron lets it give him strength as he turns back to the approaching horde. They stop near the border of the moat, all of them in one perfectly straight line. They've had thousands of years to perfect it, pale bodies hung in place. There are other creatures mixed in, huge giants from the dark mountains, goblins and pixies, a few dark elves with their purple skin and all white eyes._ _

__From the midst, a chant begins to gain momentum, the words lost in translation but it is clear whom they call for from out of the front row Caesar suddenly emerges astride a horse. It is not a normal breed though, half the animal's bones sticking out, its gait seeming controlled by other forces. It paws relentless at the ground and whines high and wild._ _

__He stops on the very edge of the army, a banner man stepping out with him as he approaches where the moat is supposed to touch down. Using his abilities, Caesar scans the walls until he spots Agron, grinning slowly. There is no question that he still views this as a sort of mating game, though for how long there is no saying._ _

__“Agron.” Caesar presses his gloved hand to his mouth, lowering it as if he's blowing the king a kiss. “It warms heart to see you.”_ _

__"Mira, give me your bow." Nasir grits between his teeth, hands reaching. He could thrust an arrow through Caesar’s throat from here and put an end to all of this._ _

__"Wait." Spartacus gently shakes his head, watching as well._ _

__"Your castle is very beautiful, Wolf King. It will be a shame when we will destroy it." Caesar grins wide and sharp, the taunt earning a rippling roar through his army._ _

__"Strong words mean nothing in battle," Agron snips back, teeth sharp when he grins, "It is all in a man's ability to draw ones sword through another's neck."_ _

__"A man of action." Caesar compliments. "You will see your kingdom fall today though. Make no mistake. And everyone you love with it. All that will remain is the black mark of your kingdom and the curse of your name.”_ _

__"It does not have to be this way." Agron replies, feeling both Spartacus and Nasir tense up. "You could give up this ridiculous notion and fight me one on one. Remember the old ways and not have to kill thousands."_ _

__Caesar seems to be contemplating it, pausing and staring into his lap. It is short lived though as Caesar slowly begins to grin, eyes going alight and wild. He draws his sword from its scabbard, raising it above his head._ _

__"I cannot deny them the pleasure."_ _

__With a sharp bark of laughter, Caesar slips back into the ranks of his men as archers suddenly appear throughout the crowd, bows cocked and ready. A command is given, something sharp and otherworldly, and the stars blink out of existence as hundreds of arrows fly._ _

__"Shields!" Crixus bellows beside them, lifting his own and crouching to protect himself from the pelting metal tips._ _

__They slam into the wood faces of wolves painted onto the Alptraum shields, sticking deep but not penetrating flesh. Under his own shield, Agron wraps his fingers around his sword and meets Nasir's eyes. There is a fierce determination there, an unrelenting need to fight and kill to save their family._ _

__"It has begun, Agron." Spartacus leans into his king, shouting to be heard. "Give us your command and see us rain hell down."_ _

__"Naevia, Mira, reply attack." Agron barks out his order, standing when it is safe to and turning towards Auctus and Barca. "Do not let this fucking door fall. We lose the moat, we lose the city."_ _

__He motions with one hand for the others, quickly moving towards the stairs. They follow in careful and quick steps, heeded on by the quick release of bow strings. Outside the castle walls, screams can be heard as arrows make their purchase. It is dimmed to the terrible sound of metal dragging over rough stone._ _

__Pausing in an open walkway, the Alptraum group watches in horror as giants emerge from the crowd, lugging huge catapults behind them. They're loaded with heavy boulders, the rocks covered in chains and spikes. Drawing back the rope, the giants let loose the machine, the huge stones slamming into the walls of the city._ _

__The crash knocks the group to the side, scrambling to escape from another blow. The walls shudder, an avalanche of stones and stray objects falling down onto the soldiers nearby. Leading them forward, Agron manage to huddle them all in a small alcove, the stones here thick and separated from the outside by a long hall._ _

__"Crixus, send signal to Tankemenin. Once his troops are within the cavern, we will surround it by fire." Agron barks, eyes wild and glowing as he turns. "Spartacus, I want the soldiers on the east bank ready to attack on my command."_ _

__"Agron," Nasir cuts in, eyes trained out of a window._ _

__He can see the dark cloud descending over a nearby cliff, moving too fast to be natural. The shadows demons suddenly taking form when they get past the last row of vampire soldiers, their faces without feature and clawed hands outreached. They come with a terrible scream, their horses nothing but mist as they hit the dark waters of the moat, slamming into the walls. It does not stop them though. They dissolve through it, a dozen suddenly appearing before the royal group, the sounds of screams giving evidence to their appearance in other parts._ _

__"Ariadne!" Lido suddenly shoves past the kings, hands outstretched as a surge of light and ice erupts from his palms. She stands beside him, hand on his shoulder and eyes violet, a film of rainbow lights dancing over her skin. It surrounds the monsters, powerful and sharp, the acidic sound of melting flesh permeating the air. When it has dimmed, the demons are no more._ _

__"Mika! Jem!" Lido turns with gleaming eyes, tilting his head._ _

__The Pythonissan brothers only hesitate a moment, enough to press their matching palms to Nasir's shoulders before they dash after their older brother, balls of light and magic streaming from their hands as they join the fight._ _

__Turning, Agron leads Spartacus and Nasir down into a secret passageway, stones jutting out over the moat and the army below. A group of soldiers wait here, the best warriors they have, to cut along the vampire army and reach the front. They make it just in time to see the large wooden door fall, a carefully shot boulder smashing the stone on one side. The vampire army lets out a cry of excitement, advancing over the bridge just as the Alptraum army begins their own offense. They meet in the middle, bodies spilling over into the sides and disappearing into the darkness._ _

__From behind the battle, thousands of Taurant soldiers suddenly crest the ridge, banners shimmering orange and yellow, the roar of their hooves on the snow deafening. They manage to round the vampires towards the moat, attacking on both sides as they try and sandwich them close._ _

__"Where is the fire?" Agron grits out between his teeth, scanning the high slopes._ _

__They had prepared a quick network of clay pots and carefully laid lines of oil to erupt when a runner had set one end to light. It was meant to cage in the other side of the vampires, a wall of impenetrable lights that the creatures could not pass. It was another way to push them forward, to trap them in a carefully designed pin._ _

__Scanning the peaks, Agron can see where the line begins, the fuse still new and untouched. Below, an arrow pins a small teen to the ground, his torch fallen and cold beside him._ _

__"Fuck!" Agron hisses, turning desperately to look at Spartacus._ _

__"We will find another way." Spartacus' eyes scan the mountains, brain whirling as he tries to think of a way to ascend the fifty-yard path._ _

__Below, the roar of battle is deafening as the vampire spread out, pressing the army back towards the walls of the city. They are relentless, ogres and giants slamming their war hammers into groups of men, tossing them easily from their perch on the wooden walk way. They are quickly gaining ground and will reach the city soon._ _

__"I can light it." Nasir suddenly pipes up, pushing his sword into a nearby soldier's hands, securing his sword and his knives to his side. He trickles a flame over his knuckles as if to prove his point._ _

__"It is too far." Spartacus tries to reason, watching as a group of goblins fight across the path. "We don't have the time."_ _

__"Toss me." Nasir ignores Agron 's wide eyes, turning to look at Spartacus. "You only need to get me halfway, just enough for my magic to reach."_ _

__"No." Agron instantly turns, growling the words. "You will fall into the battle."_ _

__"I can make it!" Nasir snaps, shaking out his ankle. "Throw me and I will meet you upon the battlefield. When the fire catches, give your command and attack."_ _

__"It is too dangerous." Agron tries to argue but Nasir's eyes flash, a splatter of scales sliding down his forehead._ _

__"It is the only way, my king. Let me do this and we shall end it!" Nasir does not move his eyes from Agron's even as Spartacus braces down on one knee, shield planted in the ground._ _

__Resigned, Agron thrusts his own shield down beside Spartacus, striding half a step forward to press his mouth greedy and hot to Nasir's. He grips his face tightly, seals them together one last time, breathing hot words against Nasir’s flushed mouth._ _

__"Aim true. We will not get a second chance at this."_ _

__Nasir nods shortly, backing up through the throngs of soldiers and planting his feet. He waits until Spartacus and Agron press their shields together, faces both grim but determined, Agron's quick nod giving the command. Nasir's feet pound on the ground, breath sharp and short as he runs across the ledge, jumping and planting his feet in the very center of the wolves' snarling faces._ _

__Agron and Spartacus lift together and push, propelling Nasir high into the air in a steep arch. It seems as if he will go on forever, a burst of flames shooting from the palms of his hand. The red instantly catches the wick, a shattering of clay being heard as the line of oil ignites. Nasir falls surrounded by flames, body rolling when he reaches the ground, knife coming up sharp and practiced directly into a goblin's skull._ _

__"Attack!" Agron screams at the top of his lungs, leading the troop of soldiers forward._ _

__He can feel Spartacus beside him, both of them in the front as they crest from their hiding place. The army before them turns in surprise, vampires and creatures of the night trying to raise their weapons as the Alptraum onslaught descends._ _

__Agron cuts his sword quick and deadly through a vampire's neck, turning on his heel to slice through a goblin's chest. It is chaos down here, a mass of bodies pressed against one another, the scent of blood and carnage sharp and deadly. He slams his elbow into an orc's face, feeling the tissue crumble under the blow and presses forward, eyes scanning the crowd for his husband._ _

__Swinging his body around, Nasir plants his foot in the back of a fallen elf and propels himself up, landing with legs and arms wrapped around a huge ogre. He does not stop stabbing into the creature’s neck even when he falls, crashing to the ground. There is a frenzy in his blood now, eyes wild as he turns sharply from his spot in the mud, dragging his blades down the side of another man's back._ _

__Avoiding the swing of a war hammer, Agron is just able to slam his sword up through the giant's skull only to have a blade slide through his bicep. It rips at the flesh, the cut deep but not deadly, blood pouring down his side. He turns back, ready to deliver the blow, only to have the shade fall as a sword is thrust through his chest._ _

__Behind, Spartacus stands with a triumphant grin, nodding his head at Agron and once again falls back into battle. They move close and in tandem, both attempting to find others in the crowd and also kill all those who stand in their way._ _

__Nasir has just sliced the head off a small goblin witch when something crashes into his back, forcing him down onto his front. He rolls on instinct, eyes rolling until they manage to focus on his attacker, Caesar's face covered in blood._ _

__"He has trained you well, little snake." Caesar smirks, spinning his sword in his hand._ _

__"The better to knock your head from your neck." Nasir uses momentum to slam his feet into the mud, propelling himself back up to stand._ _

__"Let us put such skill to the test."_ _

__With a snarl, Caesar advances, swinging his sword in a quick and controlled arch, slamming into Nasir's own. They press against one another, eyes wild and frantic as Nasir shoves hard, escaping from the hold and turning, sword dancing over Caesar's thigh. It cuts the fabric open, a long line of blood appearing._ _

__"Very good." Caesar smirks, trailing his fingers over the wound and lapping the blood away. "Agron should be proud of his boy. Though I can't imagine he always lets his pregnant bitch fight his battles."_ _

__"You fight with me, not with Agron." Nasir slams his sword down onto Caesar's pushing him back a few feet. "Let us fucking have it then!"_ _

__They slam into one another again, voices raised in shouts as those around them give them room. The vampires know better than to interfere when Caesar does this, plays with what he thinks will be his food. The fight is vicious, angry and reckless as Nasir earns a gash over his chest from a too quick attack with a slow block._ _

__Nasir fights ruthlessly, hissing as his eyes gleam and fangs descend. He uses all that he has, fire bursting from his hands and burning over Caesar's cloak until he's forced to throw it away from him. Nasir is quick to attack then, twisting a blade into Caesar's shoulder only for the vampire to reach up and pull it out, tossing the metal away._ _

__Caesar has thousands of years on Nasir though, of fighting and battle and training. It is not long before he pulls a quick move, legs sliding out and knocking Nasir onto his back, the air leaving him. He stares up at the night sky for only a moment, gasping as Caesar's boots collide with his chest, kicking him over in a complete circle._ _

__"You have done well. You should be proud." Caesar straddles Nasir's stomach, pressing his sword down against his throat. "But did you really think you could win this? That I would fall to your blade? You have lost, Nasir, and all that you hold dear will be mine."_ _

__"You forget," Nasir coughs, the words rough and staggered in his chest._ _

__"Forget? Forget what?" Caesar scoffs, his grip on his sword tight enough to leave a thin line of blood._ _

__"I do not stand alone."_ _

__A blur of leather and fur move past Nasir's vision, Agron's growl loud and rumbling as he slams Caesar back into the ground. They wrestle with one another, bodies slamming together and then breaking apart, both of them managing to roll into a standing crouch._ _

__"It ends today, Caesar." Agron pants, eagerly rolling the hilt of his sword in his hand, "Let us fucking finish it!"_ _

__The two collide together with a terrible crash, snarls and growls being lost in the slamming of metal upon steel. Caesar fights quick and sharp, staying close to his enemy. He no longer plays games but instead replies with each of Agron's thrusts, using the slick ground to his advantage as he dodges a lunge._ _

__Back and forth they move over the battlefield, matching one another in speed and skill. Agron earns a cut over the cheek from Caesar's quick reply, the vampire gushing blood from a stab in his hip. They are tearing each other apart, one piece at a time, the ground around them slick with blood._ _

__Nasir manages to pull himself to his feet, gripping a sword from a dead vampire's hand nearby and coming to the defense. He clashes his sword against Caesar's, reckless and not as controlled as he would like. It all seems to happen in slow motion then, Nasir's vision getting hazy as Caesar's fist collides with his mouth, his boot to Nasir's stomach. It topples him back to the ground, crashing to the mud just as Agron approaches on the attack. In a practiced move, Caesar turns and drops to one knee, sword up and thrust, the blade disappearing into Agron's stomach._ _

__"No!" Nasir screams at the top of his lungs, body in agony as Caesar quickly retracts the sword, eyes huge. It seems he did not mean to do it, staggering back half a step as Agron drops to his knees._ _

__Blood pours from the wound, the skin rough and open as Nasir dashes forward, ripping the cloak off a nearby fallen Alptraum soldier and pressing it to Agron's abdomen. He falls back into the mud, gasping up at the sky and eyes wide._ _

__"Agron, hang on. Hang on. I can fix this." Nasir cries, the tears acidic and sharp as he tries to press his palm flat to Agron's ruined skin. He can't concentrate though, Caesar lingering behind him like a dark shadow._ _

__"It is okay, my love." Agron struggles to get the words out, his trembling fingers ghosting over Nasir's own. "It's okay."_ _

__"Stop. Just. Don't." Nasir sobs, his hands sparking but the magic flickering sharply. He is too exhausted, too worn out from using it during the battle._ _

__"I-" Agron's breath becomes labored just as Spartacus appears, falling to the king's other side. He does not spare Caesar a glance, instead gently presses his hand to Agron's shoulder._ _

__"Please. Don't. Not yet. I can fix this." Nasir begs, leaning in to kiss Agron's forehead. "I am trying."_ _

__"I love you." Agron's bloody fingers find the strength to raise, gently touching the smooth curve of Nasir's cheek, before they descend, falling into the mud._ _

__Nasir does not need to be an Alptraum to know that Agron is dead, his face going slack, wide eyes staring up at the night sky. A scream bubbles inside of Nasir, burning and acidic as he presses his face one last time to Agron's chest, the tears in his eyes turning hot and dry._ _

__He lets out a terrible cry, no longer human as Nasir turns, the gold that had once ghosted over his body turning to ribbons of black. His eyes gloss over into darkness, body rising up as Nasir advances on Caesar. He pins the vampire down onto the ground, his magic lashing out in thorned vines to hold his limbs steady._ _

__Caesar chokes in fear, held suspended in the air as Nasir screams, his fingers curling tight as the vines suddenly tug in opposite directions. Blood pours from the sky as Nasir rips Caesar's body apart, flinging pieces across the battlefield._ _

__It is a frenzy then, creatures and vampires alike trying to run from Nasir's wrath. There is no escape though, his vines and fire find them across the ground, massacring them and slaughtering all that stand in the way. Blood soaks into the ground, the sky crackling terribly as a storm seems to approach. There is no end to the pain or fury that Nasir inflicts upon his enemy._ _

__From the depths of the crowd, Lido, Kalmar, Mika, and Jem race forward, hands desperate and outreaching as they form a tight circle around Nasir. They latch onto one another, magic pulsing as they try to bring Nasir back to himself. He fights them, magic shattering over the ground._ _

__"Nasir, come back to us." Mika screams above the noise of terror around them._ _

__"Do not let it overtake you." Jem echoes, turning desperate eyes to Lido. "What do we do?"_ _

__"He is losing himself. If we cannot get him back to his mortal self, he will destroy the world." Kalmar answers, looking around desperately to understand the source of this anguish. "Where is- Oh."_ _

__He can see Agron's corpse, body laid upon his back, Spartacus lingering nearby with streaming eyes and hand clutched onto the king's sword._ _

__"Nasir, we can save him." Lido cuts in, turns the circle until he stands before his little brother. "We can bring Agron back but we need you."_ _

__"It is not possible." Nasir snarls, fangs dripping venom._ _

__"Together," Lido promises, swears it. "Together we can do this, little brother. But we cannot do it without you."_ _

__Color bleeds back into Nasir's eyes, the sparkling tears from before suddenly gushing from his eyes. The waves of vines and fire that had spilled from Nasir's hands curls back up, the whole cavern seeming to fall into silence as Nasir staggers, moving to collapse beside Agron's still body._ _

__He cannot say the words, cannot even think. Instead, Nasir slumps to lay beside Agron, ignoring the way the mud and carnage stick to him. He presses his head down on to Agron's chest, his arms around him and sobs, body and mind seemingly broken as the brothers take up station at each cardinal direction around the body._ _

__"Sator," Lido begins, pressing his fingertips to Agron's forehead. "Grant us this power."_ _

__"To undo what has been done." Kalmar's hand clamps down on Agron's feet from the south._ _

__"And bring life and air back into this son of wolf." Jem murmurs with his fingers both on Agron's arm and Nasir's back._ _

__"And see divine power once be restored." Malik finishes, his palm on Agron's chest._ _

__Leaning forward, Nasir presses his lips to Agron's ear, heart feeling as if each breath causes another piece to break._ _

__"Or take me with him." Nasir gasps, eyes shut. "For my place is forever beside him."_ _

__A glow begins in the very center of Agron's chest, gold and flickering but beginning to grow. It descends over his chest and stomach, cocooning his legs and arms and them over his face. The light shatters into the darkness, cutting through it and beaming brighter than the son. It is blinding and brilliant, the burst unlike anything else._ _

__The gasp echoes through the silence, the chest under Nasir's cheek suddenly expanding as the glow begins to recede. It is slow and careful, revealing the dark carnage of battle around them, then closer to the four faces of the Pythonissan brothers, Spartacus' grim expression lingering above them. Finally, it slips from Nasir's face and then Agron's - his green eyes gleaming once more and staring around him._ _

__"What has happened?" Agron croaks, fingers naturally ghosting over his stomach where the skin is repaired and smooth._ _

__"Impossible things." Lido grins, tenderly brushing a stray hair from Agron's forehead._ _

__Agron cranes his neck down to see Nasir, his face slack and eyes still streaming. He does not remember what happened after Caesar's blade had impaled him, the pain a foggy memory almost as if a dream. He reaches forward with trembling fingers now though, brushing a trail of blood from Nasir's cheek._ _

__"I saw a great and terrible room with golden thrones," Agron murmurs, "and a spot laid out for me. But I could not stay. It was not yet our time."_ _

__"It will not be our time for many years," Nasir whispers back, leaning up to gently kiss Agron's mouth. "I have yet to live my lifetime with you."_ _

__Agron traces his finger down Nasir's smooth cheek, knowing within his heart that it will be so. No one now could be foolish enough to try and separate them._ _

__"And a lifetime we shall have."_ _


	3. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final epilogue

Warm sunlight filters through the leaves cashing long strands of shadows and then light onto the blanket. Nasir can feel the warmth of it against his skin, soothed out of his quiet musings by the sound of laughter. The field around him is vast and lush, green grass swaying in the breeze cut through with wild flowers of pink and purple, the hint of long cattails on the far corner. 

The summer has been mild, warm and dry with enough rain to allow the plants to grow tall and strong. It will be a good harvest and an easy trek back to the castle in a few months, Mika and Jem set to meet them there. Kalmar's visit will come sooner now that Darach has crowned him consort and king. Lido's will not come until nearly after the winter holidays, still kept under close lock and key by his husband.

"Baba! Watch!" Malik's voice cuts through the Nasir's thoughts. He's standing on a small hill, raising his hands above his head as he easily flips off of it. 

"Very good!" Nasir praises, clapping as he sits up and folding his legs around him.

“I can do it too!” Sepp shouts, scrambling up onto the hill as well. His flip is a little sloppy but he manages to get his feet under him. 

“Excellent!” Nasir uses his hands over Ravi’s to help the toddler clap for brothers. 

Malik is twelve and strong, already besting all the boys in his training group at both sword and spear. He's grown tall and broad shouldered, lingering close to Agron's chin and thick arms. The pride of the Alptraum people, he has wild curls and a sharp temper and is extremely protective over his siblings. It is no secret though that he loves Nasir above all others, constantly curling up beside the king at night and listening to Nasir hum as he works on mending. 

Next came Sepp, born early and in the middle of a large field as the Alptraum migrated to their summer homes. He has two black marks around each of his wrists, eyes quick to change at the slightest provocation. Melitta was right when she predicted that he would hold some darkness in him, his temper to be feared when he goes into a rage. His heart does not seem to be in them though, burning hot and then cold in quick flashes of light. 

Kieran arrived a year later, the third and most subdued of the siblings. He was born with a furrow and an eyeroll strong enough to silence any room, proud and loyal. Kieran masters the bow before the sword, training for months with Naevia and Mira, tirelessly migrating from their lessons to shadowing Agron. He is the smart and dedicated son, concerned with brining honor to the house and the family above all else. 

The twins arrived in the middle of a snow storm and nearly killed Nasir with the power they needed to bring them into this world. Born with a silver cord around their wrists, Nadia and Laila come into this world bound to one another and never separate. They are mischievous and bright, prone to dancing and singing often. They clutch at Agron and Nasir, delight and loving towards both of their parents. Born with Nasir's dark eyes, they know they can beg their way of anything when it comes to Agron. 

Last and most sacred, the toddler sits in Nasir's lap, pressing his chubby fists to the dirt. Ravi is small and wide eyes, the spitting image of Nasir in every way even down to the tattoo on his lower back. He is the only one of the children who is not gifted with the wolf, instead Ravi can dance fire over his knuckles, coax leaves from the dry and scorched land. Agron and Malik try to protect him the most, sheltering him and keeping him nearby, but Ravi is cunning and already plays them both like the back of his hand. 

"My love, you lose yourself in thought." Agron teases, suddenly plopping down on the blanket. Ravi instantly begins to weave a strand of clover into Agron's hair. 

"I am sorry." Nasir turns from watching Nico (found by Mika and Jem serving as a cleaner in a brothel. He is of Pythonissan blood, a mark of a god upon his back) and Sepp chase each other around the field. Kieran watches with huge eyes, too shy and too committed to playing chaperone to participate. 

"What has mind so lost in thoughts?" Agron asks, peppering kisses over Ravi's face to make the child laugh. 

"Just happiness," Nasir answers, accepting the soft kiss from Agron as well. "It feels like a lifetime ago when I wasn't."

Ravi's laughter draws the attention of his siblings, all of them coming over to collapse in sweaty heaps around the blanket. It was almost time for lunch anyways, and Nasir knows Pietros, Duro, Auctus, and Barca will be expecting them much later for dinner. For now though, it is enough for them all to cuddle against one another, safe and cocooned in their parents' loving arms, not a cloud in the sky to darken this day.

 

\- - -

 

The Six Princes & Princesses of Alptra  
_Children of King Agron & King Nasir_  
  
_Malik_ , the first son, and foretold king of kings  
_Sepp_ whose darkness is hidden in light  
_Kieran_ the strength and joy of Alptra and Pythonissa  
_Nadia_ and _Laila_ , born for each other in blood and light  
_Ravi_ , most beloved, whom magic blessed beyond all others

 


End file.
